Quotes About Longing

You are a slave of what you need in your soul.

He could find his soul in desire itself, but not in the objects of desire.

A miserable Mike says haltingly, "I could love someone ever know, wasn't paid for it. And I love you, and you don't pay me." n a ball, he tells Scott, "I really want to kiss you, man." The scene of Scott gently holding Mike, stroking his hair.

And then she fell into his arms. It was what he'd dreamed of on sleepless nights, holding her, feeling the press of her breasts to his chest, the flare of her hips in his hands. He forgot all about where they were, why they were alone together. He forgot the risk of his dishonor and her ruin. There was still a corrupt beast inside him, waiting for this chance. All that mattered was that they were alone, and she was with him, and he wished he never had to let her go.

You're going to want me, Simon, as much as I want you...and before you can have me...you're going to have to deserve me.

There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You've ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can't say any of that.

Sometimes you can only feel something by its absence. By the empty spaces it leaves behind.

I know that unlike that night, tonight I won't kiss her. Or touch her. Or even see her up close. Tonight, I'll listen. And that'll be enough.

I know that all the magic kisses in the world probably couldn't have helped him today. But I would do anything to have been able to give him one.

The music is the void. And you're the reason why.

Even going to jail would be easy compared to losing you.

Even if you find him. Even if he didn't leave you on purpose, he can't possibly live up to the person you've built him into." It's not like the thought hasn't occurred to me. I get that the chances of finding him are small, but the chances of finding him as I remember him are even smaller. But I just keep going back to what my dad always says, about how when you lose something, you have to visualize the last place you had it. And I found?and then lost?so many things in Paris.

My first impulse is not to grab her or kiss her or yell at her. I simple want to touch her cheek, still flushed from the night's performance. I want to cut through the space that separates us, measured in feet-not miles, not continents, not years-and to take a callused finger to her face.

I'm so tired of missing things I don't have.

I can't lose you again. It really will kill me this time.

She left for Juilliard the day after Labor Day. I drove her to the airport. She kissed me good-bye. She told me that she loved me more than life itself. Then she stepped through security. She never came back.

By that point, it'll have been more than year since I met Lulu. Any sane person would say it's too late. It already felt too late that first day, when I woke up in the hospital. But even so, I've kept looking. I'm still looking.

It's okay if you want to go. Everyone wants you to stay. I want you to stay more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. But that's what I want and I could see why it might not be what you want. So I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It's okay if you have to leave us. It's okay if you want to stop fighting.

all I left with was the magnitude of my mistake, of my missing you. And I have to watch you from this distance, watch you achieve your dreams, live what seemed like this perfect life.

and yes, it was a high school romance, but it was still the kind of romance where I thought we were trying to find a way to make it forever...

I miss my father. I miss my grandfather. I miss my home. And I miss my mother. But the thing is, for almost three years, I managed not to miss any of them. And then I spent that one day with that one girl. One day ... It was like she gave me her whole self, and somehow as a result, I gave her more of myself than I even realized there was to give. But then she was gone. And only after I'd been filled up by her, by that day, did I understand how empty I really was.

I want it all to go away. I want to go away. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in this suspended state where I can see what's happening, where I'm aware of what I'm feeling without being able to actually feel it. I cannot scream until my throat hurts or break a window with my fist until my hand bleeds, or pull my hair out in clumps until the pain in my scalp overcomes the one in my heart.

But after shows, I craved connection. I craved skin-the taste of another woman's sweat. If it couldn't be hers , well, then anyone's would do...for a few hours.

I realize it's not just Willem I'm looking for; it's Lulu too.