Quotes About Longing

I don't love you," he said. And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a kiss of passion and desperation, a kiss of deep currents and longing. "I don't love you," he said again. "Of course you don't," she murmured happily. And she followed him out the door, into the lion's den.

You have everyone else at your feet, Miss Lydia. Why should you need me as well? For a moment she couldn't speak, mesmerized by the torment she saw in the dark depths of his eyes. Because you're the one I want, she said in a hushed voice.

She could dream of happy endings. For him, if not for her.

You've been pinning for him these last three years, God knows why. Admittedly he's gorgeous, but you're hardly the type to be overset by simple beauty. Why? Because he has sad eyes, she could have said. Because he tries so very hard to be bad, to be mean, to be cruel, and all you have to do is look past the studied ennui to see a hurt little boy trying to emerge. And yes, because he's bloody gorgeous.

Dawn couldn't come soon enough. He had to get her out of his life as quickly as possible. It was becoming the most important thing—more important than breathing, living. He needed to get away from her, fast. Because he didn't want to let her go.

He couldn't have known. The moonlight wasn't enough to illuminate the room, and the tears that spilled silently down her cheeks didn't touch him. But suddenly the kiss softened, the hands gentled on her, the lips coaxed and teased and healed. And without any more thought she was kissing him back, reaching for him with her mouth while her hands were held back, seeking him out with her tongue, calling him to her in the only way she could.

Voglio toccarti, scoprire il tuo corpo, imparare come sei fatto, di cosa hai bisogno. Voglio renderti pazzo di desiderio come lo sono io. Voglio te, tutto quello che puoi darmi, tutto quello che io posso darti, e voglio che questa notte duri per sempre. Sei in grado di darmi tutto questo?

God help her, she wanted him. Not because of his beauty, but because of the odd gentleness in his manner when she didn't expect it, because of the lost look in his green eyes, because of the way he made her feel with just a few words, because of the way he made her melt when he touched her. The jaded rake he presented to the world was just as much a mask as her own was.

Her longing for him was unbearably painful. In truth, she looked at the beautiful, spoiled, self-indulgent man and saw a wounded, angry child. One who needed her.

When she stopped long enough to think about it she knew the wanting ran through him as deeply as it ran through her.

What was it about her that caught at his soul, when he no longer had one?

She was in love with Adrian Rohan, and had been for years, and nothing, not his rudeness nor tales of his outrageous excess, nor all her own rational self-discourse, could change her.

She loved them so much that she felt a kind of hollowness on the inner surface of her arms whenever she looked at them-an ache of longing to pull them close and hold them tight against her.

People imagine that missing a loved one works kind of like missing cigarettes. The first day is really hard but the next day is less hard and so forth, easier and easier the longer you go on. But instead it's like missing water. Every day, you notice the person's absence more.

I liked to dwell on these shortcomings now. It wasn't only that I was wondering why they had ever annoyed me. I was hoping they would annoy me still, so that I could stop missing her.

She loved them so much that she felt a kind of hollowness on the inner surface of her arms whenever she looked at them—an ache of longing to pull them close and hold them tight against her. The three little boys were such a clumped-together tangle, always referred to as a single unit, but Abby knew how different each was from the next.

But still, you know how it is when you're missing a loved one. You try to turn every stranger into the person you were hoping for.

you know how it is when you're missing a loved one. You try to turn every stranger into the person you were hoping for.

She loved them so much that she felt a kind of hollowness on the inner surface of her arms whenever she looked at them- an ache of longing to pull them close and hold them tight against her." ? Anne Tyler, A Spool of Blue Thread

When she was a child she used to imagine that her mother might painlessly die somehow and her father would marry a lovely, serene woman who would sit at Willa's bedside when she had a bad dream and lay a cool palm on her forehead.

All those years when I was a child, longing for it to be 'my turn,' it hadn't ever occurred to me that my turn would be over, by and by.

Every place I go I miss another place.

Seems like you are always loving the people that fly away from you, Ben Joe, and flying away from the people that love you.

If I could have anything I wanted, I would choose story without end, and it seems I have lots of company in that.