Quotes About Longing

I watched her for a long time, memorizing her shoulders, her long-legged gait. This was how girls left. They packed up their suitcases and walked away in high heels. They pretended they weren't crying, that it wasn't the worst day of their lives. That they didn't want their mothers to come running after them, begging their forgiveness, that they wouldn't have gone down on their knees and thanked god if they could stay.

Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched....

She would buy magic every day of the week. Love me, that face said. I'm so lonely, so desperate. I'll give you whatever you want.

That kind of tenderness couldn't be permitted to last. You only got a taste, enough to know what perfection meant, and then you paid for it the rest of your life. Like the guy chained to a rock, who stole fire. The gods made an eagle eat his liver for all eternity. You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.

I wanted to hear what she was saying. I wanted to smell that burnt midnight again, I wanted to feel that wind. It was a secret wanting, like a song I couldn't stop humming, or loving someone I could never have. No matter where I went, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California.

It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.

He just wanted to stand close to her, touch her hair that was white as glacier milk...

She wanted to wake up like Dorothy and see Michael's face peering over the side of the bed, laughing. WHY, YOU JUST HIT YOUR HEAD. But it was not a dream and there was no Kansas and he was never coming back.

I wondered where he was now whether I would ever hear him again. Whether someone would love him, someday show him what beauty mean't.

Love. I would ban the word from the vocabulary. Such imprecision. Love, which love, what love? Sentiment, fantasy, longing, lust? Obsession, devouring need? Perhaps the only love that is accurate without qualification is the love of a very young child. Afterward, she too becomes a person, and thus compromised.

I wished I could shut it in a locket to wear aroung my neck. I wish a thousand-year sleep would find us, at this absolute second, like the sleep over the castle of Sleeping Beauty.

His trips home were handholds for her, so she could swing from one square on the calendar to the next. When he said he was going to come home and didn't, she swung forward and grasped thin air, fell.

His guitar bore his longing up into the darkness like sparks, a music profound in its objectless desire, beautiful beyond solace or solution

God gave you everything just to take it away. Just so you knew exactly what you were missing.

Talk to me. Look up, I thought. But she didn't, only stopped and picked a sprig of alyssum to smell the honey. I cut a shred from my heart and dangled it on a homemade hook before her.

My words, that's what she wanted. What's this? she kept asking. What's this? But how could I tell her? She'd taken all the words.

I would always know what time it was in California.

She yearned to call him, but hated the sound of the phone ringing, ringing, knowing that he might be standing right there, not picking up, knowing it was her.

She could steal my soul. She was already doing it. But who else did I have, what other beauty was there?

Wait for me, you said. Then left me alone in the echoing world.

People just wanted to be loved. That

Baltas katinas nusliuog? nuo man?s lyg b?gantis pienas.

Her gut ached, as if love was being dug out of her with a dull knife.

I'm a huge romantic but I've been unlucky in love. My mum and dad have been together since my mum was 18 and the problem with that is that me and my sister are always looking for my dad. And he doesn't exist because, well, Dad's Dad!