Quotes About Longing

Everything becomes yours when we learn to long and love for everything.

Fill yourself with love and happiness, but never give up the desire to love more.

You are not in love. Love is inside you longing for expression.

The ocean is both my mistress and my lover. How else can I explain her salty kiss that is still on my lips.

Love is like a season, it ebbs and it flows, sometimes we're like Summer, Fall and Winter, but it's Spring that I long to know.

My darling I still love you, no matter that you're gone.You'll always be with me, forever and ever more.

Separation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

The true subject of poetry is the loss of the beloved.

I close my eyes to indulge and reminisce of a sunset that never existed.

she stuck a bookmark in my heart and walked away

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.

This, this indeed is to be accursed, For if we mortals love, or if we sing, We count our joys not by what we have, But by what kept us from that perfect thing.

I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty.

You must be a poet, a lady of evil luck desiring to be what you are not, longing to be what you can only visit.

If the afternoon had been blue, there might have been less desire.

Myth and poetry represent a reservoir of vertical thinking, which we could also call longing and gratitude to ancestors. We need that gratitude desperately.

I am angry that I starved my brain and that I sat shivering in my bed at night instead of dancing or reading poetry or eating ice cream or kissing a boy.

In the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body.

Life's full of loss, who knows the cost, living in the memory of the love that never was.

But the more poetry one reads the more one longs to read!

The union of a want and a sentiment.

Poetry keeps longing alive.

A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)

You'll never know that you had all of me. You'll never know the poetry you've stirred in me.