Quotes About Longing

He only wanted to be with her. Why couldn't he simply decide to leave SkyClan?

Nu putea îndura s?-i aud? tristeÈ›ea din voce; p?rea c? pierduse ceva preÈ›ios.

Silverstream!" Graystripe reared up and flung back his head. His wails of grief split the quiet air. "Silverstream!

As he looked across to the opposite bank a cold claw sank into his heart. Sandstorm was gone.

Would he ever have the nerve to tell her he wanted her to be more than a friend? His fur prickled with frustration. He could be the bravest warrior in all four Clans, but the thought of telling Cinderheart how he felt drained every drop of courage from him.

Lionblaze stared after them. He wanted to walk with Cinderheart like that someday. His whiskers twitched as he imagined kits bounding around their paws, tripping them at every step. A soft muzzle brushed his, and he realized Cinderheart had been watching him. "I'd like that too," she whispered.

Watching her go, Fireheart felt a strange, happy prickling in his paws.

I knew it really," she mewed. "It's just that sometimes I dream about being in the forest, hunting with Brackenpaw, and then I wake up and the pain in my leg reminds me I'll never hunt again. It feels too much to bear. I have to pretend that maybe, one day, I'll be able to hunt.

Her mind flooded with an image of bounding after them to walk alongside Crowfeather, who was bringing up the rear; she drew in her breath sharply, almost able to feel his dark gray pelt brush against hers as they picked their way over the tufts of boggy grass.

She didn't know if she was running away from something or running to something, but she admitted that deep in her heart she wanted to go home.

Kiss till the cow comes home.

The problem with human attraction is not knowing if it will be returned.

I needed him like I'd never needed anyone.

He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go.

What good is a body if I can't have you?

I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life.' -Patch (PG 274)

Any happiness, no matter how brief, seemed better than the long, simmering torture of waking up day after day, knowing I could never have him.

You're just the girl of my dreams But it seems my dreams never come true

I know your eyes in the morning sun I feel you touch me in the pouring rain And the moment that you wander far from me I wanna feel you in my arms again

Hunger is always a kind of emptiness - an absence of nourishment - but what it will take to replenish it is far from obvious.

To eat these foods again in the new country was a way of holding on to the grandmothers and mothers who had first cooked with them. Often, however, the remembering through food is bittersweet, because even when you have tracked down every last herb and spice, the missing ingredient is the cook. You find you don't want pasta 'just like Mama used to make'; you actually want Mama herself.

Sugar is not love. But it can feel like it.

Often, however, the remembering through food is bittersweet, because even when you have tracked down every last herb and spice, the missing ingredient is the cook. You find you don't want pasta "just like mama used to make"; you actually want mama herself.

The soul is often hungrier than the body, and no shops can sell it food.