Quotes About Longing

His love of the sea had profound roots: the hardworking artist's desire to rest, his longing to get away from the demanding diversity of phenomena and take shelter in the bosom of simplicity and immensity; a forbidden penchant that was entirely antithetical to his mission and, for that very reason, seductive-a proclivity for the unorganized, the immeasurable, the eternal: for nothingness.

Denn der Mensch liebt und ehrt den Menschen , solange er ihn nicht zu beurteilen vermag, und die Sehnsucht ist ein Erzeunis mangelhafter Erkenntnis.

Denn das Glück, sagte er sich, ist nicht, geliebt zu werden; das ist mit Ekel gemischte Genugtuung für die Eitelkeit. Das Glück ist, zu lieben und vielleicht kleine, trügerische Annäherungen an den geliebten Gegenstand zu erhaschen.

Entangled and besotted as he was, he no longer wished for anything else than to pursue the beloved object that inflamed him, to dream about him when he was absent and to speak amorous phrases, after the manner of lovers, to his mere shadow.

Zo wist en wilde de verwarde niets anders meer dan de aanstichter van het vuur dat in hem brandde zonder ophouden te achtervolgen, over hem te dromen wanneer hij er niet was en naar de wijze van de verliefden louter tegen zijn schaduwbeeld tedere woorden te fluisteren. Eenzaamheid, de vreemde omgeving en het geluk van een late en diepe roes moedigden hem aan en haalden hem ertoe over om van zichzelf ook het meest bevreemdende zonder schaamte of blozen te accepteren, (...)

El trajecte serà curt, pensava. Tant de bo durés sempre!

Yet he received this love with joy, surrendered himself to it, and cherished it with all the strength of his being; for he knew that love made one vital and rich, and he longed to be vital and rich, far more than he did to work tranquilly on anything to give it permanent form.

ce que nous appelons la douleur n'est peut-être pas tant le regret que nous éprouvons de cette impossibilité de voir les morts revenir à la vie que notre impuissance à le souhaiter.

Ma che aveva, dunque? Che cosa mai era quello che, sotto la cenere della sua stanchezza, bruciava oscuro e dolente, senza poter divampare in chiara fiamma?

It's a craving that shouldn't even exist, and yet you can't wish it didn't exist. Once it has hold of you, you can't wish it away, because you'd have to wish your life away, it's so bound up with it, and you can't do that—what good would dying do? Afterward—with pleasure. In her arms—only too gladly. But before? That's nonsense, because life is desire, and desire is life, and life can't be its own enemy.

La alegría, la sorpresa y la admiración debieron de reflejarse claramente en él cuando su mirada se cruzó con la del añorado ausente, y en ese mismo instante Tadzio sonrió.

m. He has waited so long-and we all know what torture waiting can be! His whole life is waiting-waiting for the next walk in the open, a waiting that begins as soon as he is rested from the last one. Even his night consists of waiting; for his sleep is distributed throughout the whole twenty-four hours of the day, with many a little nap on the grass in the garden, the sun shining down warm on his coat, or behind the curtains of his kennel, to break up and shorten the empty spaces of the day.

Aunque no tuviera yo el mar y la playa, permanecería aquí mientras tú no te fueras.

sapere che coloro ai quali tu aneli, vi resistono con severa inaccessibilità, fa molto male.

A felicidade é amar e talvez colher pequenas aproximações ilusórias da pessoa amada.

People, after all, only love and respect other people so long as they remain unable to judge them. Longing is a child of ignorance

Era voglia di viaggiare, nient'altro; ma sopraggiunta davvero come un accesso e cresciuta fino alla passione, addirittura all'inganno dei sensi.

Sun and sea air could not burn his skin, it was the same creamy marble hue as at first—though he did look a little pale, either from the cold or in the bluish moonlight of the arc-lamps. The shapely brows were so delicately drawn, the eyes so deeply dark—lovelier he was than words could say, and as often the thought visited Aschenbach, and brought its own pang, that language could but extol, not reproduce, the beauties of the sense.

People, after all, only love and respect other people so long as they remain unable to judge them. Longing is a child of ignorance. It

The Sehnsucht motif, a lonely wandering voice in the night, softly uttered its tremulous question. Silence followed, a silence of waiting. And then the answer: the same hesitant, lonely strain, but higher in pitch, more radiant and tender. Silence again. And then

Sakykite, kas tai - meil? svetimai sužad?tinei, ir kod?l ta meil? gali tapti sunkiu ilgame?i? min?i? objektu? Jos padar? tai, kad man ? galv? ?m? smelktis vienas žodis, ir, kad ir kaip nor?dama, kad ir kaip drov?damasi, niekaip negal?jau juo atsikratyti. Tas žodis - parazitizmas...

It is not merely our own desire but the desire of Christ in His Spirit that drives us to grow in love. Those who seldom or never feel in their hearts the desire for the love of God and other men, and who do not thirst for the pure waters of desire which are poured out in us by the strong, living God, are usually those who have drunk from other rivers or have dug for themselves broken cisterns.

I need my heart to be moved by you.

Concupierunt concupiscentiam in deserto. . . . Numquid poterit parare mensam populo suo?