Quotes About Longing

It was you I thought of all the time, I gave to them the love you did not need: lavished on them a love that was not theirs.

Then I am sorry I did not stay away longer I like being missed.

Being with you, and not being with you, is the only way I have to measure time. ~ BORGES ~

Oh, my dear, how too marvelous! I've longed all my life to eat a flamingo.

I am no good without you, Ginesse," he said. "I spent a lifetime alone, but I never understood loneliness until I was away from you. I never understood happiness until I saw you again.

Avery? she whispered. He gathered her closer, his eyes still closed. Avery? Shh. His voice was low and infinitely sad. Hush. Tomorrow's waiting outside this door. It's crouching there in an ocean of words and uncertainties. But it's not here yet and we are. Lily. Lillian. Love. I'm begging you. Let me love you again. Let me love you all night long. She answered with a kiss.

Foolish Lily, he said. Don't you know why I haven't touched you? Didn't you guess that once you were in my arms I would never let you go?

Will I ever see you again? No. Do I love you? Yes, for all time.

She watched him a while longer and then shut her eyes again. And even though she knew her hand was tucked beneath her cheek and he was on the far side of the room, the instant she closed her eyes he was there beside her again, his hands crossed on his chest and her hand held tightly under them, pressed safely against his heart. Who

Their thoughts flowed together in an incoherent torrent of relief and joy and delight, colliding, crashing, looping in a cascade of longing and explanations and desire as overwhelming, as drenching as the deluge of voices had been, but wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, and she was going under, she was going to drown.

It's not regret for staying. It is nostalgia for something that we believe is true in our illusion, something we will never have. And if we touched it, we would soon realize that it was not what we dreamed of.

Nor does God whisper through the trees. His voice is not to be mistaken. When men hear it they fall to their knees and their souls are riven and they cry out to Him and there is no fear but only wildness of heart that springs from such longing...

From daydreams on the road there was no waking. He plodded on. He could remember everything of her save her scent. Seated in a theatre with her beside him leaning forward listening to the music. Gold scrollwork and sconces and the tall columnar folds of the drapes at either side of the stage. She held his hand in her lap and he could feel the tops of her stockings through the thin stuff of her summer dress. Freeze this frame. Now call down your dark and your cold and be damned.

He can give me what you cannot. Death is not a lover. Oh yes, he is.

Maybe. Anyway, some men get what they want. No man. Or perhaps only briefly so as to lose it. Or perhaps only to prove to the dreamer that the world of his longing made real is no longer that world at all.

The martyr who longs for the flames can be no right candidate for them.

It may be that the life I desire for her no longer even exists, yet I know what she does not. That there is nothing to lose.

Most people'll run from their own mother to get to hug death by the neck. They cant wait to see him.

Your old man called me. He wanted you to call home. People in hell want ice water.

Those who choose a love that can never be fulfilled will be hounded by a rage that can never be extinguished.

You can think of me as a faithless slut if you like. I've taken a new lover. He can give me what you cannot. Death is not a lover. Oh yes he is.

Ever's a long time.

I believe that we are arks of the covenant and our true nature is not rage or deceit or terror or logic or craft or even sorrow. It is longing.

Life is being in bed with you. Everything else is just waiting.