Quotes About Longing

I'd love to see Kate Bush, full stop.

I was so keen to get back to sea. I was rattled.

I think there's a sort of agony with all intelligent and very creative designers that it's only fashion, that in the end it's only the decorative arts. I had a feeling towards the end that Saint Laurent and Berge were very keen to attain that immortality that a lot of designers long for. You know, those endless exhibitions.

I love to reread, even more than I like to read, so keeping a hold of books that I adore is very important, although they flee from me - they are always fleeing.

I'd do anything to have more kids. But that's probably not gonna happen now.

I kind of crave loneliness.

I've known my wife since we were 13 years old in eighth grade, and we kinda dated each other's best friends. The four of us always hung out, but I really wanted her. We dated around 17, but I was no way mature enough for her.

When the boys and girls would line up separately in kindergarten, I'd find myself longing to be in the other line.

I would kiss you, had I the courage.

Kiss me out of desire, but not consolation.

Sadly, I haven't been doing a lot of kissing lately.

When you lose a child in an accident as I did, it's final - you're not caught in this longing for him, to search for him, knowing he's out there some place.

I absolutely had a dream of doing 'Man of La Mancha' one day; that's a long time ago.

She reached out her arms to Blackie. The beautiful siren was calling her weary sailor safely to port.

Beckon the transitive vampire to your bedside and submit to his kisses thirstily.

What will I taste like?" I asked. He inhaled deeply at the base of my throat. "Sweet and pure," he answered, "like white lilacs.

She looked at him. He saw her tendrils of damp hair. He looked off, but he had never felt this thing so deep before, this need to speak, to say how far he had been swept from what is good, and the sense seemed doubtful and unmanly.

I swear, I'm gonna have to lock you up. I'd chain you to my bed, except I'm seldom in it.

Staff silenced her with a hot kiss. "Hush," he whispered, taking her closer into his arms. "Mary, we have waited long enough. I want you, dearest, to make up for the lonely hours, and countless advice, and worry that your kings and cursed father would totally ruin our life together. And for the wasted years. Tonight, Mary, we are going to begin catching up-and it will take a long, long time for us to be even...

Tell me what you want, my love," he rasped through parted lips. "Tell me now." "You, Staff, you. Forever and always. Please." "Only Staff?" "Yes, yes. Please, my love. Put out the fire." "But first I have to fan it brighter," he said low, and moved into her instantly.

How you can already miss someone when you are in the same room with them, I have no idea. But I do.

His mother is wishing her boy would come home." Lots of mothers wishing that these days, while their sons walk to California, where rain comes, and the color green doesn't seem like such a miracle, and hope rises daily, like sap in a stem.

I don't want to die, I just want to go, away, out of the dust.

The day that I left my home, I had prayed that my children would forget me. I wanted to spare them the pain of remembering. But that night, as I crouched in the white mist, waiting, I knew more than anything that I wanted them to remember, I wanted desperately to go on living in someone's memory. If we are not remembered, we are more than dead, for it is as if we had never lived.