Quotes About Longing

Les dolía el corazón de amor y miedo

She wouldn't look at him. He couldn't help himself from looking at her.

A rocket or a bridge. That's the only way I can really describe it. If there is a river between our sleeping bodies, this is the bridge that crosses it. ... I can just fit my fist around the base without waking him. I love it so much I want to bite it.

The past. The Golden Age of the past. What a nostalgia we all feel for it. Yet we don't want it when we get it. Try the South Seas.

The locust continues to devour the world Hunger persists Love lurches on listing to starboard like a ship in a bottle Human longing goes on Loneliness a curse Innocence persists Ignorance persists

The pennycandystore beyond the El is where i first fell in love with unreality Jellybeans glowed in the semi-gloom of that september afternoon A cat upon the counter moved among the licorice sticks and tootsie rolls and Oh Boy Gum Outside the leaves were falling as they died A wind had blown away the sun A girl ran in Her hair was rainy Her breasts were breathless in the little room Outside the leaves were falling and they cried Too soon! too soon!

Someone knows my name. Seeing you makes me want to live.

I cried for what should have been.

No less romantically than Rapunzel in her tower pined for rescue did I pine for this idealized being, a kind of alternate me, a me outside of me. A shining one who would somehow at once be my familiar, my deepest intimate, and at the same time exist thrillingly apart.

The thing you love right away, don't do it, because that's the very thing that's going to be your addiction for the rest of your life.

There's a feeling I get when I look to the west, And my spirit is crying for leaving. In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees, And the voices of those who standing looking. Ooh, it makes me wonder, Ooh, it really makes me wonder.

I do not play the instrument In longing but in quest Not to be undertaken Not to be lost In a forest of bliss.

Out of the rhythm and sound of the sea that beat through the orchestra, something moved--pressing toward death with quiet insistent joy--the thread through the maze--the soul behind the toil and the crime and longing.

Is it too late?" I asked Margot Cherry that afternoon. It's been more than thirty years and still I can remember how my voice shook. "How do we know when we've loved someone all that we can?

Sunja was still thinking about Hansu and how he might be nearby. More than anything, she was afraid of running into him. Yet it would be worse, she thought, never to see him at all." Book 1, p89

I flush with heaving passion's strange delight, Yet find contentment lost in appetite.

When life's summer grows to winter And its roses fade and fall; When in vain we try to hinder Death's commissioned right to all; When on white lips there's a last kiss And we see her face no more, Then it is to know what love is, Waiting on a foreign shore.

With what tragic pathos do all men regard The child grown old whose heart cries!

Jeg vil ikke have noget engang - jeg vil have det nu. Men jeg ved kraftknuseme ikke, hvad det er, jeg vil have

They would say anything, because they have dreamed this dream too long to be denied.

A storm was inside her and she could not subdue it. If she could be sure, if she could hold Lydia again, if she could kiss her cool cheeks, if she could put her finger on that mouth that couldn't swallow, that couldn't cry, that no longer needed her, that no longer knew her, then maybe she could settle down. Hope was the devil, hope wrestled with her and wouldn't let her rest.

She wanted this feeling of home to settle inside her until it gave her the sweetest of dreams.

Memory could be a terrible thing .. an instrument of torture that persists in its work long after a man has suffered his time upon the rack.

One's home is like a delicious piece of pie you order in a restaurant on a country road one cozy evening–the best piece of pie you have ever eaten in your life–and can never find again.