Quotes About Longing

People go on marrying because they can't resist natural forces, although many of them may know perfectly well that they are possibly buying a month's pleasure with a life's discomfort.

You have never loved me as I love you--never--never! Yours is not a passionate heart--your heart does not burn in a flame! You are, upon the whole, a sort of fay, or sprite-- not a woman!

Tell me now, Angel, do you think we shall meet again after we are dead? I want to know. He kissed her to avoid a reply at such a time. "O, Angel--I fear that means no!" said she, with a suppressed sob. "And I wanted so to see you again-- so much, so much! What--not even you and I, Angel, who love each other so well?

Dr. Fell, do you believe a man could become so obsessed with a woman, from a single encounter? Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her and find nourishment in the very sight of her? I think so. But would she see through the bars of his plight and ache for him?

What does he do, Clarice? What is the first and principal thing he does, what need does he serve by killing? He covets. How do we begin to covet? We begin by coveting what we see every day.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder: Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!

She smiles at the feast where gay nobles are met, But she thinks of the knight she was told to forget.

I hate the noon--give me the moon, And dewy nights in May or June.

There's a time when we feel the want of friends, The early one's the best, When love, like a weary bird, descends To find a place of rest; And finds on all the earth not one Familiar spot to rest upon.

I love thee — I love thee, 'Tis all that I can say It is my vision in the night, My dreaming in the day.

O God, You Who are the truth, make me one with You in love everlasting. I am often wearied by the many things I hear and read, but in You is all that I long for. Let the learned be still, let all creatures be silent before You; You alone speak to me.

We all have romantic nature of one kind or another buried somewhere in our hearts.

If there were dreams to sell,What would you buy?Some cost a passing-bell;Some a light sigh.

If there were dreams to sell,... Merry and sad to tell, And the crier rang the bell, What would you buy?

If there were dreams to sell, what would you buy?

I had this theory. It was based loosely on the unremarkable observation that the old are always looking back with longing while the young, with the same longing, look ahead. One man remembers what the other imagines.

Money! Ho, ho! 'T'as been my want so long, 'tis now my scoff. I've e'en forgot what colour silver's of.

Oft in the stilly night,Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,Fond Memory brings the lightOf other days around me;The smiles, the tears,Of boyhood's years,The words of love then spoken;The eyes that shoneNow dimmed and gone,The cheerful hearts now broken.

There's nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream.

If we must part forever, Give me but one kind word to think upon and please myself with, while my heart's breaking.

If you set your love on worldly things, they will not satisfy.

You can't go home again

O lost, And by the wind grieved, Ghost, Come back again.

But why had he always felt so strongly the magnetic pull of home, why had he thought so much about it and remembered it with such blazing accuracy, if it did not matter, and if this little town, and the immortal hills around it, was not the only home he had on earth? He did not know. All that he knew was that the years flow by like water, and that one day men come home again.