Quotes About Longing

. . .I really ought to have recognized it for what it was and, perhaps, to have stopped right there - for it was nostalgia, and what inspires nostalgia has been dead a long time

I had been wanting to do a musical for a really long time. I wanted people in New York to know that I can sing.

She smiled at Coraline, as if it had been a very long time since she had smiled and she had almost, but not quite, forgotten how.

Don't you know what that is? It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't quite know what it is you DO want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!

It is a time when one's spirit is subdued and sad, one knows not why; when the past seems a storm-swept desolation, life a vanity and a burden, and the future but a way to death. It is a time when one is filled with vague longings; when one dreams of flight to peaceful islands in the remote solitudes of the sea, or folds his hands and says, What is the use of struggling, and toiling and worrying any more? let us give it all up.

Then she told me all about the bad place, and said I wished I was there. She got mad, then, but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted was to go somewheres, all I wanted was a change, I warn't particular

It is my prayer, it is my longing, that we may pass from this life together—a longing which shall never perish from the earth, but shall have place in the heart of every wife that loves, until the end of time; and it shall be called by my name.

Tom found himself writing BECKY in the sand with his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it.

All the first years, their only question had been -- asked with beseechings and tears that might have moved stone, in time, perhaps, but hearts are not stones: Is he alive? Is she alive?

We do not get ice-cream every where, and so, when we do, we are apt to dissipate to excess. We never cared any thing about ice-cream at home, but we look upon it with a sort of idolatry now that it is so scarce in these red-hot climates of the East.

The poor morsel of food only whetted desire.

But I have never ceased to think of that girl. I have written to her, but I can not direct the epistle because her name is one of those nine-jointed Russian affairs, and there are not letters enough in our alphabet to hold out. I am not reckless enough to try to pronounce it when I am awake, but I make a stagger at it in my dreams

And when it comes to beauty - and goodness too - she lays over them all. I hain't ever seen her since that time that I see her go out of that door; no, I hain't ever seen her since, but I reckon I've thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying she would pray for me; and if ever I'd a thought it would do any good for me to pray for her, blamed if I wouldn't a done it or bust.

Would she cry, and wish that she had the right to put her arms around his neck and comfort him?

The stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently—it was budding home-sickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to speak his thought.

Kaybettiklerimin aras?nda, en çok akl?m? özlüyorum. ..

L'avevo messo là dentro senza riflettere, poiché avevo immaginato che sarebbe stato particolarmente comodo averlo lì dentro. E ora, il pensiero che era lì, così a portata di mano e tanto vicino eppure irraggiungibile peggiorava la situazione e la rendeva insopportabile. Già, la cosa che non si può avere è la cosa che più si desidera; tutti lo sanno.

For when a man's soul is starving, what does he care for meat and roof so he can but get that nobler hunger fed?

It is hungry, it it immortal. Worse, it knows nothing of whim.

Is it possible to love something so much, you imagine it wants to destroy you only because it has denied you?

Myth makes Echo the subject of longing and desire. Physics makes Echo the subject of distance and design. Where emotion and reason are concerned both claims are accurate. And where there is no Echo there is no description of space or love. There is only science.

i miss u i love you there's no second ive lived you can't call your own

she still cannot resist looking out the window every couple of minutes. The sound of a passing truck causes her to glance away. Even if there is no sound, the weight of a hundred seconds always turns her head.

I miss you. I love you. There's no second I've lived you can't call your own.