Quotes About Longing

Love has been buried forever under the leaves at my feet. I lie down on the ground and rest my head on my bag. The grass tickles my arms where I bend the stalks under my neck. I want to sleep.

I am like them-I want life. I want to go back to Manchuria, to find my house and my go table. I will return to the Square of a Thousand Winds and wait for my Stranger. I know he will come ... one afternoon ... as he did that first time.

It wasn't an itch. It was a sickness. It was poison blazing through him, thinking of her all the time, watching her, touching her, wanting and wanting and wanting until his mind went black.

Something inside his chest unlocked--wildly, slowly, a peculiar sort of melting. He was lost. He was the thorn and the thistle, blown upon her breeze. He felt, strangely enough, staring into her yes, like he was going to weep.

You called me," I whispered. "And you came," Jesse Holms answered, a green-eyed glance back at me, a half smile that dissolved my bones. Then we were moving hand in hand down the rotting plank stairs.

I lay in my bed and tried not to miss him, to miss the entire experience of him. I wanted to feel the shape of him beside me. I wanted him to touch my hair. To kiss me, long and velvety slow.

I want you in the sky, and against the earth. I want to kiss you again, I want to touch you, I want to feel you in my arms and I want to hear you gasping my name when I'm inside you. I want all that, and I want it badly. Every time I look at you, I want it. -Kit to Rue

It's going to be this way, you know. Forever and a day, we'll be watched and followed, studied and analyzed. I fear you'll know no peace with me." "Peace," she scoffed, light—but her heart was pounding, fierce and strong. "What a tedious notion. Who requires peace, when one may have Colonel Jack Astor?

he wanted to and she wanted him to, whether she fully realized it yet or not.

And the pain she'd felt all those years before hadn't been so much that he'd left, but that he didn't love her enough to stay.

your name repeats itself mantra-like in my head. At night I fall asleep clinging to the hope that you are happy and well...

Oh, shut the fuck up, Sean snapped. I love you, man, OK? I missed you. Is that so hard to take? Does that scare you so damn bad? Kev looked away. No, he said quietly. It doesn't scare me. I missed you, too. All of you. It was a really long eighteen year. Bruno looked at all four men in turn. Seconds passed. Nothing. His disbelief grew. That was it? That was all? Oh, for the love of Christ. These guys were emotional retards, every last one of them.

I am still jealous that Phoebe's mother came back and mine did not. I miss my mother.

He looked upon this verdant, blossoming spring, a spring Joanna would never see, he looked upon a field of brilliant blue flowers- the bluebells Joanna had so loved- and at that moment he'd willingly have bartered all his tomorrows for but one yesterday.

Pummeling her pillow, she wondered if Ranulf understood about hiraeth. It translated as longing, but meant so much more, the love of the Welsh for their homeland, a sense of belonging, pride in their past, why they did not thrive when uprooted, like plants set down in foreign soil. If Ranulf wanted them to live in England, she would offer no protest, for she would have followed him to Hell if need be. But it would be a life in exile.

it is forbidden to love where we are not loved

If I could choose, a place to die," it would never have been in your arms, old darling

And you couldn't say, could you, that the touch you had from me was other than the touch of one who could love for life—whether we were suited or not—for life, like a sentence. And now that I consider, the touch that I had from you became not the touch of the long view, but like the tolerant willingness of one who is passing through.

Sometimes I can almost see around our heads, like gnats around a streetlight in summer, The children we could have, The glimmer of them.

With attachment all that seems to exist is just me & that object I desire.

Never feel ashamed of your longing for happiness.

Despite everything, she was stupid enough to love him still. Sadly, some part of her probably always would.

I knew I couldn't live without you another moment. And I knew I loved you. Well, I knew it when you left the café, and like an idiot, I'd failed more than once to see the other half of my soul right in front of me. Never again. You're mine.

It's been nearly two hundred days since I've had sex. I see beautiful women all the time. Seattle is full of them. Hell, Stratus Solutions is, too. Since Becca's death, some of her lithe, lanky yoga friends have even hinted they'd be interested in comforting me with more than a homemade casserole and a hug. I haven't truly been tempted. Until now.