Quotes About Longing

Then I am pushing through the crowd, just as I did before. Trying to shout out her name above the roar. I'm almost there, almost to the barricade when I think she hears me. Because just for a moment, she catches sight of me, her lips form my name. And that's when the rest of the parachutes go off.

bueno, hay una chica, llevo enamorado de ella desde que tengo uso de razón, pero estoy bastante seguro de que ella no sabia nada de mi hasta la cosecha.

So in the fading light I shut my eyes and kiss Gale to make up for all the kisses I've withheld, and because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it.

My mother's hand strokes my cheek and I don't push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don't trust her.

Katniss! Katniss! I can hear my name called from all sides. Everyone wants my kisses.

Maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance I could keep him,

I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone.

He said, See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner." -Peeta Mellark in The Hunger Games

I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.

I must have loved you a lot." "You did." My voice catches and I pretend to cough. "And did you love me?" he asks.

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you.

Do I really want him dead? What I want . . . what I want is to have him back. But I'll never get him back now. Even

Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.

felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more.

I want to go home, Peeta," I say plaintively, like a small child. "You will. I promise,"...

The ones I loved fly as birds in the open sky above me. Soaring, weaving, calling to me to join them. I want so badly to folow them, but the seawater saturates my wings, making it impossible to lift them.

Si es mor, mai no acabaré de tornar a casa, realment.

What I want . . . what I want is to have him back.

Si tu mors i jo visc, a mi no m'espera cap mena de vida […]. Tu ets tota la meva vida. Mai més no tornaria a ser feliç.

Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone. All that's left is my promise to kill Snow. I tell myself this ten times a day.

Then Octavia drops to her knees, rubs the hem of a skirt against her cheek, and bursts into tears. "It's been so long," she gasps, "since I've seen anything pretty.

If there's a more helpless feeling than trying to reach someone you love who's trapped underground, I don't know it.

His voice isn't angry. It's hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth