Quotes About Longing

I had no Freedom. I had nothing.

there is a place in the heart that will never be filled

Anything, anything to stop drowning in this dull, trivial and cowardly existence.

I got the sad sads and all I want to do is fuck you.

Sweet Christ, you must know that a man will go further for any poem than for any woman ever born.

Love came hard and very seldom. When it did it was usually for the wrong reasons.

I know that some night in some bedroom soon my fingers will rift through soft clean hair songs such as no radio plays all sadness, grinning into flow.

the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh.

it's the same as before or the other time or the time before that. here's a cock and here's a cunt and here's trouble. only each time you think well now I've learned: I'll let her do that and I'll do this, I no longer want it all, just some comfort and some sex and only a minor love. now I'm waiting again and the years run thin. I have my radio and the kitchen walls are yellow. I keep dumping bottles and listening for footsteps. I hope that death contains less than this.

I wait on my fix: I am a poetry junkie.

I've got the sad sads all I want to do is fuck you.

I need a good woman. I need a good woman more than I need this typewriter, more than I need my automobile, more than I need Mozart; I need a good woman so badly that I can taste her in the air, I can feel her at my fingertips, I can see sidewalks built for her feet to walk upon, I can see pillows for her head, I can feel my waiting laughter, I can see her petting a cat, I can see her sleeping, I can see her slippers on the floor.

I went over to see Marina two or three or four times a week. I knew as long as I could see the girl I would be all right…. Soon after, I got a letter from Fay. She and the child were living in a hippie commune in New Mexico. It was a nice place, she said. Marina would be able to breathe there. She enclosed a little drawing the girl had made for me.

and you go on toward your ocean, the cigar biting your lips the way love used to.

I do not feel good. I've got the sad sads. All I want to do is fuck you.

I suppose there's always something out there that we want to torture ourselves with.

Nëse një ditë më dëgjoni të flasë për dashuri, e yje... ju lutem, më vrisni!

There is a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out.

I only want the sky to burn me more and more burn me out so that the sun begins at 6 in the morning and goes past midnight

I can taste her in the air, I can feel her at my fingertips, I can see sidewalks built for her feet to walk upon, I can see pillows for her head, I can feel my waiting laughter, I can see her petting a cat, I can see her sleeping, I can see her slippers on the floor. I know that she exists but where is she upon this earth.

we forget the terror of one person aching in one room alone unkissed untouched cut off watering a plant alone without a telephone that would never ring anyway.

What I wanted was a cave in Colorado with three-years' worth of foodstuffs and drink. I'd wipe my ass with sand. Anything, anything to stop drowning in this dull, trivial and cowardly existence.

I'd listen to the radio and look at the walls and get drunk enough to almost forget her but then she would return once again.

Eleven years. Although each night had been long, the years had gone fast.