Quotes About Longing

I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the slaughtered nights I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch.

Everything you do makes my body scream with loneliness. When I see you, the room swallows me. I find myself at the bottom of the pool.

Will I ever meet someone That will take the bitter taste from my mouth? I am loneliness I wish I had someone to miss

There's a small part of my heart that's always sad Part of me that walks with a slow aching step Forever longing The beauty of that To be forever longing Too much joy makes the time pass too quickly A bit of sadness slows things down so you can see it

I wish I wasn't alive as much as you are dead

Have you ever experienced something so great That years later you regretted the whole thing Seeing the hole it left in you?

If I could I would melt into your arms I would fall like ten dead languages I would not front I would not lie to you I don't think I could lie anymore I have grown too old for such youthful pursuits I want to love someone before I die Hurry It won't be long now

Do you ever feel the need to go somewhere Forget everything so you can remember yourself? You get a good way down the road and then the phone rings Not tonight A night for nights Dried blood by the bus stop A car patching out in the parking lot of the market Where the hell could I go? No, I'm plugged in Hooked

They say true love only comes around once and you have to hold out and be strong until then. I have been waiting. I have been searching. I am a man under the moon, walking the streets of earth until dawn. There's got to be someone for me. It's not too much to ask. Just someone to be with. Someone to love. Someone to give everything to. Someone.

Ah me! why may not love and life be one?

A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.

Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed; I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn.

My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.

The soul is often hungrier than the body and no shop can sell it food.

He was always in a hurry to get where he was not.

You've said nothing, of course, and I ask nothing," he was saying; "but you know that friendship's not what I want: that there's only one happiness in life for me, that word that you dislike so…yes, love!…

what time can be more beautiful than the one in which the finest virtues, innocent cheerfulness and indefinable longing for love constitute the sole motives of your life?

Boredom is desire seeking desire.

I must ask what it is you want of me?" "What can I want? All I can want is that you should not desert me, as you think of doing," she said, understanding all he had not uttered. "But that I don't want; that's secondary. I want love, and there is none. So then all is over.

Her glance, the touch of her hand, set him aflame. He kissed the palm of his hand where she had touched it, and went home, happy in the sense that he had got nearer to the attainment of his aims that evening…

That's my one desire, to be caught," answered Vronsky, with his serene, good-humored smile. "If I complain of anything it's only that I'm not caught enough, to tell the truth. I begin to lose hope.

Vronsky meanwhile, despite the full realization of what he had desired for so long, was not fully happy. He soon felt that the realization of his desire had given him only a grain of the mountain of happiness he had expected. It showed him the eternal error people make in imagining that happiness is in the realization of desires.

He stepped down trying not to look long at her, as though she were the sun, yet he saw her as one sees the sun, without looking.

And just as the hungry stomach eagerly accepts every object it can get, hoping to find nourishment in it, Vronsky quite unconsciously clutched first at politics, then at new books, and then at pictures.