Quotes About Longing

She wanted butter. She wanted lots of butter." "It's not just a question of butter,

Seakan-akan kau benar-benar mencintaiku.

My father says you remember the smell of your country no matter where you are but only recognize it when you're far away.

Oamenii cauta fericirea cum cauta sangele inima.

I want you so badly. It certainly is a new sensation for me. I never pined for anybody before in my life. In every book I read, I seem to find a parallel to you and men

People who lose their parents when young are permanently in love with them.

it was only then that I understood how longing for a place can take you over so that you can do nothing except return, as I did, return and pick at the city, scraping together bits of the place you once knew. But what do you do if you can never return?

Old people are starved of touch: no husband, no lover, no child to slip a hand into a hand, to plant sticky kisses on nose and cheek and mouth, to snuggle and fit into the curves of the body. I watched my grandmother - my mother's mother - in her last years: her hand, the skin drawn parchmentlike over the bones, stroking, stroking, the chairs, the table, the bedspread.

But she was not able to bring him peace of mind. It was as though he was angry that his happy private life should exist within the public circumstances that he hated. Or as though he longed that his personal happiness should extend to encompass all of Egypt.

This week, the world gathers in Beijing for the 2008 Olympic games. This is the extraordinary moment China has been dreaming of for 100 years. People have been longing for this moment, because it symbolises a turning point in China's relationship with the outside world.

His hands are saying that he wants to hold her. His feet are saying that he wants to chase after her... He's probably forgotten that I'm here, beside him

We hit the sidewalk, and dropped hands. How I wished, right then, that the whole world was a street.

kissing George was a little like rolling in caramel after spending years surviving off rice sticks.

That's all I wanted to do. Really. Just talk to Joshua. Tell him that being with him is the only thing that's ever mattered to me. Let him know about the letters I've been writing him, maybe offer to read one or two, so he'd know exactly how I feel, and how much I still want him. How sorry I am for anything I may have done wrong.

I didn't tell them how hard everything was without Joshua. How much I loved him. How I would have given up everything—everything—to be with him again. Even for just one night.

Maybe that is the loneliest kind of memory: to be forever altered by an invisible kiss, a reminder of something long ago and crumbled, (…)

Desire is like a fire ... In the end it makes us burst. And thought we achieve what we want, it will never Quench our thirst.

Desire is like a fire…In the end it makes us burst. And though we achieve what we want, it will never Quench our thirst.

After twenty years of living the barren life, I want to believe that now all of my patient dreams will at last be realized

Lifting your head, my slender arm beneath the nape of your neck, I want, suddenly, to suck your feverish lips with mine

The little lamb's eyes, desperate for forest water, must resemble mine. O you whose love I long for, how can you understand me?

My shiny black hair fallen into disarray, a thousand tangles, like a thousand tangled thoughts about my love for you.

If you're exposed to grief long enough, you can become addicted to it, you know. You begin to feel something's missing when­ever you're without sadness. And once this happens, sad­ness becomes a kind of queer delight...

I have nothing I ever wanted, after I had everything.