Quotes About Longing

I long for Europe of the ancient parapets.

He would say, "How funny it will all seem, all you've gone through, when I'm not here anymore, when you no longer feel my arms around your shoulders, nor my heart beneath you, nor this mouth on your eyes, because I will have to go away some day, far away..." And in that instant I could feel myself with him gone, dizzy with fear, sinking down into the most horrible blackness: into death.

Mais, vrai, j'ai trop pleuré ! Les Aubes sont navrantes. Toute lune est atroce et tout soliel amer: L'âcre amour m'a gonflé de torpeurs enivrantes. Ô que ma quille éclate ! Ô que j'aille à la mer!

I could never throw Love out of the window.

Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!

Come back, come back, dear friend, only friend, come back. I promise to be good.

Aphrodite's thirst was never quenched; it was cruel and dreamy. It was certainly the most splendid kind of thirst.

I will never possess my hand.

Tu viendras, tu viendras, je t'aime ! Ce sera beau. Tu viendras, n'est-ce pas, et même... Elle - Et mon bureau ?

Eternas ondinas, dividid el agua fina. Venus, del azul hermana, conmueve las puras aguas. Judío errante en Noruega, dime, ¿cómo nieva? Viejos exiliados tiernos, contadme el océano. YO-. Nunca esas bebidas puras, ni esas flores de florero, ni leyendas, ni figuras, saciarme pudieron. Coplista, tu ahijada es mi sed que se desboca, hidra íntima sin bocas que roe y devasta.

O may it come, the time of love, The time we'd be enamoured of. - Song of the Highest Tower

O vento Sul me fez lembrar miseráveis incidentes de infância, meus desesperos de verão, a horrível quantidade de força e de ciência que o destino sempre afastou de mim. Não! não passaremos o verão neste país mesquinho onde nada mais seremos que noivos órfãos. Quero que este braço teso não arraste mais uma imagem querida.

A Thousand Dreams gently burn inside me.

When they will have shot their wads, Oh, stolen heart, how will you react? There'll be a Bacchic accolade When they will have shot their wads! My stomach will surely contract If my sad heart they degrade! When they will have shot their wads, Oh, stolen heart, how will you react?

Bertha divined what an enormous wrong had been wrought against the world in that the longing for pleasure is placed in woman just as in man; and that with women that longing is a sin, demanding expiation, if the yearning for pleasure is not at the same time a yearning for motherhood.

Love I never associated with the senses, it was not even passion that I wanted; it was a conscious, subtle, elaborate sensuality, which I knew not how to procure.

Mere things?however costly or lovely in themselves?cannot meet the real needs of the soul. The heart was made for God, and He alone can fill it. Self's enjoyment of the joys of this earth leaves naught but emptiness behind. The thirst of the soul cannot be quenched by the cisterns of this world. Gold can purchase nothing but what proves to be vanity. Christ alone "satisfieth the longing soul" (Psa 107:9).

It seemed to Don Jaime that you could find in the memory of every man the bittersweet shadow of a woman.

Then she leant over and kissed him very slowly, with infinite tenderness. As if she had had to wait an eternity to do so.

El hueco prematuro que una pérdida intuida y posible, tal vez probable, deja de antemano en el vientre y el corazón.

Nada traicionan, tanto tiempo después, la mujer que desde hace dos años vive sola junto al mar con un perro y unos libros. Qué otra cosa, decide, seria el impulso, o el deseo, de permanecer abrazada a ese hombre para siempre. Ignora que habrá en su cabeza dentro de un par de horas, cuando la claridad del día despeje del todo e ilumine con mas crudeza su conciencia. Lo cierto es que en este momento, sin duda alguna, desearía morir si el muriera.

O tal vez también lo fuiste algún tiempo, antes de que nuestra Troya ardiera. Cuando me susurrabas declinaciones griegas y latinas mientras te esforzabas en que descifrase a Homero y Virgilio: «Háblame, oh, musa, del hombre de innumerables astucias que por mucho tiempo anduvo errante»Ã¢â'¬Â¦

This is where I belong. This is what I have always dreamt of.

The way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke.