Quotes About Longing

People kept on longing for meaning and hope, but the annals of the past are a muddy story of chaos only.

Even in Kyoto when I hear the cuckoo I long for Kyoto.

Decades would pass. A few short sections would be formed in time into strangely resurrected, trunkless legs-tourist sites, sacred sites, national sites. For the line was broken, as all lines finally are; it was on longing for meaning and hope, but the annals of the past are a muddy story of chaos only. And of that colossal ruin, boundless and buried, the lone and level jungle stretched far away. Of imperial dreams and dead men, all that remained was long grass.

And all the time he knew it was his hunger eating him.

He read books. He liked none of them. He searched their pages for Amy. She was not there. He went to parties. They bored him. He walked the streets, gazing into strangers' faces. Amy was not there. The world, in all its infinite wonder, bored him. He searched every room of his life for Amy. But Amy was not anywhere to be found.

Loneliness, I've read, is like being in a long line, waiting to reach the front where it's promised something good will happen. Only the line never moves, and other people are always coming in ahead of you, and the front, the place where you want to be, is always farther and farther away until you no longer believe it has anything to offer you.

Nothing in the world is as hopeful as knowing a woman you like is somewhere thinking about only you. Conversely, there is no badness anywhere as acute as the badness of no woman out in the world thinking about you. Or worse. That one has quit because of some bone-headedness on your part. It is like looking out an airplane window and finding the earth has disappeared. No loneliness can compete with that.

One of the down-side factors to living alone is that you sometimes get overly absorbed with how exact segments of time are consumed, and can begin to feel a pleasure with life that is hopelessly tinged with longing.

I was sayin' let me out of here before I was even born.

When a forty-minute swim in the Hendrix's underground pool failed to dispel either the longing for Miriam Bancroft's torrid company or the Merge Nine hangover, I did the only thing I felt equipped for. I ordered painkillers from room service, and went shopping.

So where the fuck are you, Isaac? I can hear your breathing, I just need to see you so I can stop it.

Jealousy is a map. It tells us—with excruciating precision—just where and for what we yearn.

Recuerdo que algún día yo le hablé de mi río y una como tormenta se agitó en sus estrañas. No sé si fue mi pecho que tembló de recuerdo o si fueron mis ojos que asomaron nostalgias. I remember a day when I spoke of my river and something like a storm stirred in his being. Was it my breast that trembled with the memory Was it nostalgia that showed through my eyes

Como suena en mi alma la idea de una noche completa en tus brazos

Va descalza la vida por la nube del mar desde que alzo hacia ti mi corazon sus vuelvas.

I did not wonder if what his absence would spare me was the exhaustion of a longing so relentless it had become nearly unconscious, as if I had failed to realize that the water I drank was salty, always salty.

feel as if I'm visiting home in a dream, where everything yet nothing is the way it should be, where the best of what you have and what you wish for are briefly, tantalizingly united. Tealing

Darling,' when Charlie said it, felt like a whirlpool of rapture. Whenever Greenie answered the phone, he would say just that word, and Greenie would say 'You,' which was her way of expressing that he was now the world to her, that he was the one for whom she was always waiting, that he was the high cliff on which she was happy to stand and from which she had come to realize she might, at any moment, jump. Jump with open eyes and outspread arms.

And Lizzie! Still here? Not run off after your handsome rebel lord yet?... What's wrong with you, girl? At your age, I would've thrown off the parental shackles and hopped on the first boat to America to see him.' 'Perhaps I'm rebelling against the parental shackles by not doing as you say, Mama.

She hated that she was still so desperate for a glimpse of him, but it had been this way for years.

Suddenly it was too hard to be in his presence, too painful to know that he would belong to someone else.

She'd met Colin on a Monday. She'd kissed him on a Friday. Twelve years later. She sighed. It seemed fairly pathetic.

She had been born for this man, and she had spent so many years trying to accept the fact that he had been born for someone else...

341 days seems like an eternity when you can't see people you love.