Quotes About Longing

Bueno, algún día, si quieres venirte a vivir conmigo… Crearé un nuevo Dios y le agradeceré con gritos desgarradores si me das una esperanza microscópica.

The more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.

So I tom-peeped across the hedges of years, into wan little windows. And when, by means of pitifully ardent, naively lascivious caresses, she of the noble nipple and massive thigh prepared me for the performance of my nightly duty, it was still a nymphet's scent that in despair I tried to pick up, as I bayed through the undergrowth of dark decaying forests.

I would see her floating away from me, celestial and solitary, in an ethereal chairlift, up and up, to a glittering summit where laughing athletes stripped to the waist were waiting for her, for her.

Kilencvennégy évesen is szerette újra átélni azt az elsÅ' szerelmes nyarat, s nem úgy, mint egy épp az imént látott álmot, hanem mint a múltbéli tudat felidézését, amelynek révén leküzdötte a szürke hajnali órákat a felületes alvás és az aznapi elsÅ' tabletta között.

for you never deigned to believe that I could, without any specific designs, ever crave to bury my face in your plaid skirt, my darling!

The more you love a memory, the stronger and the stranger it becomes.

My mouth to him was a splendid cave full of priceless treasures, but I denied him entrance.

I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita's absence from my side, but the absence of her voice from that concord.

What was it—through everything terrible, nocturnal, unwieldy—what was that thing? It had been last to move aside, reluctantly yielding to the huge, heavy wagons of sleep, and now it was first to hurry back—so pleasant, so very pleasant—swelling, growing more distinct, suffusing his heart with warmth: Marthe is coming today!

are you quite, quite sure that—well, not tomorrow, of course, and not after tomorrow, but—well—some day, any day, you will not come to live with me? I will create a brand new God and thank him with piercing cries, if you give me that microscopic hope

Oh, Lolita, had you loved me thus!

Just like a man grieving because he has recently lost in his dreams some thing that he had never had in reality, or hoping that tomorrow he would dream that he found it again.

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta:

throb-and-sob idol

El lector debe comprender que, dueño y señor de una nínfula, el encantado viajero está, por así decirlo, más allá de la felicidad.

Goodness, what crazy purchases were prompted by the poignant predilection Humbert had in those days for check weaves, bright cottons, frills, puffed-out short sleeves, soft pleats, snug-fitting bodices and generously full skirts! Oh Lolita, you are my girl, as Vee was Poe's and Bea Dante's, and what little girl would not like to whirl in a circular skirt and scanties

Nos enamoramos simultáneamente, de una manera frenética, impúdica, agonizante. Y desesperada, debería agregar, porque este arrebato de mutua posesión sólo se habría saciado si cada uno se hubiera embebido y saturado realmente de cada partícula del alma y el corazón del otro; pero ahí nos quedábamos ambos, incapaces hasta de encontrar esas oportunidades de juntarnos que habrían sido tan fáciles para los chicos callejeros.

Esos contactos incompletos producían en nuestros cuerpos jóvenes, sanos e inexpertos, un estado de exasperación tal, que ni aun el agua fría y azul, bajo la cual nos aferrábamos, podía aliviar.

El dolor quedó en mí, y a partir de entonces ella me hechizó, hasta que, al fin, veinticuatro años después, rompí el hechizo encarnándola en otra.

iar contactele acestea incomplete au împins trupurile noastre s?n?toase, tinere È™i lipsite de experien?? într-o asemenea exasperare, încât nu se mai putea liniÈ™ti nici m?car apa albastr? È™i r?coroas? sub care noi doi ne È›ineam înc? ag??aÈ›i unul de altul.

Humbert era perfectamente capaz de tener relaciones con Eva, pero suspiraba por Lilith.

Blunders, gropings, disappointment; surely the Cupid serving him was left-handed, with a weak chin and no imagination. And alongside these feeble romances there had been hundreds of girls of whom he had dreamed but whom he had never got to know; they had just slid past him, leaving for a day or two that hopeless sense of loss which makes beauty what it is: a distant lone tree against golden heavens; ripples of light on the inner curve of a bridge; a thing quite impossible to capture

It's tempting, emptiness.