Quotes About Longing

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it sure makes the rest of you lonely.

Sometimes I lie awake at night and think about that little red-haired girl... I don't ever want to forget her face, but if I don't forget her face, I'll go crazy... How can I remember the face I can't forget? Suddenly I'm writing country western music!

Those dreams I have at night are going to drive me crazy. Last night I dreamed that little red-haired girl and I were eating lunch together... But she's gone... She's moved away, and I don't know where she lives, and she doesn't know I even exist, and I'll never see her again... And... I wish men cried...

There's nothing like unrequited love to take all the flavor out of a peanut butter sandwich.

Dear Sweetheart, do you ever think of me? Just the other day I was thinking of you. I'm pretty sure it was you.

Dear Sweetheart, Without you my days are endless. Days seem like weeks... Weeks feel like months... Months like years... Years like centuries... Centuries like... You get the idea.

Sometimes, when you walk by the home of the girl you love, you can see her standing by the window... She waves at you, and you wave back... But it's her grandmother...

I can't get that Little Red-Haired Girl out of my mind. ~ Charlie Brown

There's the house where that little red-haired girl lives... Maybe she'll see me, and come rushing out to thank me for the Christmas card I sent her... Maybe she'll even give me a hug... Maybe Billie Jean King will call me tonight, and invite me out to dinner.

Waiting for somebody does that. It turns minutes to hours, hours to days, and days to several lifetimes.

Augustine said it best: You stir man to take pleasure in praising You, because You have made us for Yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in You.

Saint Augustine said it best: You stir man to take pleasure in praising You, because You have made us for Yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in You.

There, on that bank, soaked in that water, basking in that sun-shine, lying on that man's chest, I hoped for the first time that my real dad would never show up and take me home.

And God? He's in these hills because we are. No matter how far you run, you can't shake Him. Maybe Davis and I know that best, but Emma knew it first, and Saint Augustine said it best: You stir man to take pleasure in praising You, because You have made us for Yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in You.

It also produced a painful longing to hear his voice just one more time.

She blazed, burned herself out, and then disappeared into the silent deep, sounding the echoes of remembrance throughout a hollow and shattered heart.

You stir man to take pleasure in praising You, because You have made us for Yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in You.

I saw an infinity of such dreary evenings stretching out ahead of me. Trapped in a dirty old house with a grieving old woman and an irritable young one. And with only the books I had brought with me, most of which were still in my trunk anyway.

A dream is a wish your heart makes.

Little did Papa realize that morning that he was never to see us or hold us again, nor would he ever again harken to the meadowlarks of Yell County trilling a joyous anthem to spring.

The west is dead. You may lose a sweetheart but you never forget her.

Never since the beginning of the world has there been so little light. Our winter afternoons have been known at times to last a hundred years.

One writes because one has been touched by the yearning for and the despair of ever touching the Other.

Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on the object we're waiting for.