Quotes About Longing

What did my arms do before they held you?" ? Sylvia Plath

What I want back is what I was Before the bed, before the knife, Before the brooch-pin and the salve Fixed me in this parenthesis; Horses fluent in the wind, A place, a time gone out of mind.

And then there are the many many times I have given myself to that fury and that death which is loving you, and I am, to my own knifing hurt, more faithful than is kind to my peace and my wholeness. I live in two worlds and as long as we are apart, I always shall.

shall pick up Bergson, or Kafka, or Joyce, and languish for the minds that are outleaping and outskipping mine.

Sim, fiquei e levada com você, ainda estou. Ninguém jamais despertou tamanha intensidade de sensação física em mim. Afastei-o, pois não suportaria ser um capricho passageiro. Antes de entregar meu corpo, preciso entregar meus pensamentos, minha mente, meus sonhos. E você não queria saber de nada disso.

ache and ache to return to my proper place, which is curled up right there, sheltered and cherished

Your absence is inconspicuous; Nobody can tell what I lack.

I miss being young. I miss being young and strong. Young and fast. Young and in love. Nothing like it. Old love is good, too. But you get the feeling that the world mainly just wants you out of the way.

You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; They called me the hyacinth girl.' —Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Od' und leer das Meer.

Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing

To work magic is to dare. Finding our Divine Work in the world is a chance to risk what feels known. We must learn to trust intuition, and listen to the longing in our souls. To find your soul's work, follow your heart's desire.

Our grown-up was dinged and damaged.  One of us was only thirteen and knew far less than he thought he did, and the eleven-year-old among us had to work to keep from whining. I wanted my mother in a powerful way, which I made a brave attempt to hide.

We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men

And if all that is meaningless, I want to be cured Of a craving for something I cannot find And of the shame of never finding it.

life is long between the desire and the spasm.

I that was near your heart was removed therefrom

mixing Memory and desire

I thought that if I died To you, I who had only been a ghost to you, You might be able to find the road back To a time when you were real -

The more rapacious, to take what I never had; The more unpardonable, to taunt me with not having it. Had you taken what I had, you would have left me at least a memory Of something to live upon.

But you are just the same: Just as voracious for what you cannot have Because you repel it.

All people know the Greater Hunger...It is the hunger for warmth, for family, for connection to the stars and the earth and other living things... For love? Renie asked. Yes, I suppose that could be true.

Of all the songs we Zida'ya sing, she (Aditu) murmured, the closest to our hearts are those which tell of things lost. Perhaps that is because none of us can show something's value until it is gone, said Josua.

No better sauce there is being than hunger.

Summer's End Cruel orb, my foe, the sun, Glaring upon things I never want to see again The proud, lightning-limbed oaks Of Hekhasor The shimmering blue waters of Silverhome's lake And the endless, endless sky Go away, foul sun! You make me sad.