Quotes About Longing

There's so much of you here with me, really, that it's a pity you aren't all here.

To Connie, everything in her world and life seemed worn out, and her dissatisfaction was older than the hills.

You don't want to love—your eternal and abnormal craving is to be loved. You aren't positive, you're negative. You absorb, absorb, as if you must fill yourself up with love, because you've got a shortage somewhere.

You are the call and I am the answer, You are the wish, and I the fulfillment, You are the night, and I the day. What else? it is perfect enough. It is perfectly complete, You and I, What more?? Strange, how we suffer in spite of this!

He would be alone, and apart from life, which was all he wanted.

Quite frantically, he longed not to be.

Continuaré tirando pan al agua; y si mis hijos vuelven algún día, seré feliz.

Yet there she stood under the self-accusation of wanting him, tied to that stake of torture.

Some things can't be ravished. You can't ravish a tin of sardines. And so many women are like that: and men. But the earth...!

I would like to have all the rest of the world disappear,' she said, `and live with you here.' `It won't disappear,' he said.

He gazed at the book in his hand, did not see it for some moments, thinking of her, then saw it again.

She saw him slender and firm, as if the setting sun had given him to her. A deep pain took hold of her, and she knew she must love him.

She searched earnestly in herself to see if she wanted Paul Morel. She felt there would be some disgrace in it. Full of twisted feeling, she was afraid she did want him. She stood selfconvicted. Then came an agony of new shame. She shrank within herself in a coil of torture. Did she want Paul Morel, and did he know she wanted him? What a subtle infamy upon her! She felt as if her whole soul coiled into knots of shame.

There had come into his forehead a knitting of the brows which was becoming habitual with him, particularly when he was with Miriam. She longed to smooth it away, and she was afraid of it. It seemed the stamp of a man who was not her man in Paul Morel.

don't you REALLY WANT to get married?

Dismissed, he wanted to kiss her, but he dared not. She half wanted him to kiss her, but could not bring herself to give any signs.

Some sort of perversity in our souls makes us not want, get away from, the very thing we want. We have to fight against that.

He could not leave her, because in one way she did hold the best of him. He could not stay with her because she did not take the rest of him, which was three-quarters. So he chafed himself into rawness over her.

She had passed by. He felt as if he were walking again in a far world, not Cossethay, a far world, the fragile reality. He went on, quiet, suspended, rarefied. He could not bear to think or to speak, nor make any sound or sign, nor change his fixed motion. He could scarcely bear to think of her face. He moved within the knowledge of her, in the world that was beyond reality.

Well, so many words, because I can't touch you. If I could sleep with my arms round you, the ink could stay in the bottle.

My thoughts Chink against my ribs And roll about like silver hail-stones. I should like to spill them out, And pour them, all shining, Over you. But my heart is shut upon them And holds them straitly. Come, You! and open my heart; That my thoughts torment me no longer, But glitter in your hair.

What is it then, that they want, that they are forever rampant and unsatisfied, the king of beasts and the defender of virgins? What is this Crown that hovers between them, unattainable?

Hope had become almost a curse to her. She wished there need be no such thing. Ha, the torment of hoping, and the insult to one's soul.

They remind me of mistletoe, which is never ours, though we wear it," said Emily to me.