Quotes About Longing

before I die I want to see The world that lies behind the strangeness of your eyes

A Quoi Bon Dire" Seventeen years ago you said Something that sounded like Good-bye; And everybody thinks that you are dead, But I. So I, as I grow stiff and cold To this and that say Good-bye too; And everybody sees that I am old But you. And one fine morning in a sunny lane Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear That nobody can love their way again, While over there You will have smiled, I shall have tossed your hair.

But first I want your life: - before I die I want to see The world that lies behind the strangeness of your eyes There is nothing gay or green there for my gathering, it may be, Yet on brown fields there lies A haunting purple bloom: is there not something in grey skies And in grey sea? I want what world there is behind your eyes,

Homesickness starts with food

I wish I had a great relationship with my mother.

If you could bottle it, everyone would have one!

If I could reach the stars I'd give 'em all to you Then you'd love me, love me Like you used to do

He hadn't found what he'd meant to find, but his need to swipe and hoard something had been appeased for now.

I've a deuced strong desire to kiss you," he said huskily.

She couldn't tear herself away from his beautiful face, his furred chest, his tight trousers. As usual, the top buttons were unfastened, and her gaze was held captive by the male mysteries buried below. How she craved to see him in the altogether! To run her hands across that marvelous torso! To massage and caress as he permitted his other paramours to indulge themselves on a regular basis!

His life is like your life and my life and all the lives of all the people who are reading these words right now. It's a roiling stew of fear and need and desire and love and the hunger to be loved. And mostly, it's the latter.

We all love X but want to fuck Z. Z is so gleaming, so crystalline, so unlikely to bitch at you for neglecting to take out the recycling. Nobody has to haggle with Z. Z doesn't wear a watch. Z is like a motorcycle with no one on it. Beautiful. Going nowhere.

To witness the way they leaned into each other and laced their fingers together and tugged each other tenderly down the paved path was almost unbearable. I was simultaneously sickened by it and envious of what they had. Their existence seemed proof that I would never succeed at romantic love.

I was a pebble. I was a leave. I was the jagged branch of a tree. I was nothing to them and they were everything to me.

Every part of my body hurt. Except my heart. I saw no one, but, strange as it was, I missed no one. I longed for nothing but food and waterr and to be able to pt my backpack down

Would it ring? It would not ring. Should you call? You should not call. But you always called. You couldn't help but call because your heart was crushed and you thought maybe if you talked it out ONE MORE TIME the person who crushed your heart would change his/her mind and uncrush it.

Every now and then I could see myself--truly see myself--and a sentence would come to me, thundering like a god into my head, and as I saw myself then in front of that tarnished mirror what came was "the woman with the hole in her heart." That was me. That was why I'd longed for a companion the night before. That was why I was here, naked in a motel, with this preposterous idea of hiking alone for three months on the PCT.

I'd reached the point where if a character in one of the novels I was reading happened to be eating, I had to skip over the scene because it simply hurt too much to read about what I wanted and couldn't have. I

Bring the man you aspire to be, the one who already has the love he longs for. Play every piece of yourself and play it with all you've got until you're not playing anymore. That's what Cary Grant did. The lonely boy who lost his mom in the fog of his father's deceit found himself in the magic of wanting to be. His name was Archibald Leach.

I clutched its mate to my chest like a baby, though of course it was futile. What is one boot without the other boot? It is nothing.

A room with a view!" my mother exclaimed, though she was too weak to rise and see the lake herself. And then more quietly she said: "All of my life I've waited for a room with a view.

My prayer was different now: A year, a year, a year. Those two words beat like a heart in my chest.

For whatever it is that is less than mercy; for what we don't even have a word for. Those were the worst days, I believed at the time, and yet the moment she died I'd have given anything to have them back. One small, horrible, glorious day after the other.

I hope you can do that someday with someone else," I said when he didn't reply, though the very thought of that someone else pierced my heart. "I hope you can too," he said. I sat in the darkness beside him, wanting to believe that I was capable of finding the kind of love I had with him again, only without wrecking it the next time around. It felt impossible to me.