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Longing Quotes

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Longing Quotes

“She closed her eyes and felt him inside her skin. Where he was vibrant and smart and irreverent and loving. She saw his smile, heard his laugh. Felt his hands. Felt his body. Now he was gone. But he hadn't left. And she sometimes wondered if that was him, beating on her heart. And she wondered what would happen if he stopped. Every night she came here. Parked. And stared at the window. Hoping to see some sign of life.”

LifeLongingNostalgia
Book:How the Light Gets In
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“Interlaken Get a running start. Catch a good wind, he said: Be a good bird. I thought him German as his hand did the wave––tumult of syllables, the ocean. A gust carried us from the top of a ridge to where land helixes hug vague bodies of water, pebbled pastures skimming treelines across the range littered with wildflowers. Winds lilted: It’s not your day to go, as I watched clouds blush vermillion, flying in tandem as a crow does over reservoirs and glacial gorges. That high up, I thought maybe we could fall in love, full of pomp and spectacle, but he was a stranger, and to him, I was strange; possibly ugly. Everyone peddles timing––the random alchemy of abutting molecules––though I’ve grown weary of waiting. Stillness is the danger. So I spread out my arms, carved ciphers into ether while a choir could be heard along the nave where winding trails scissor the basin. Spiraling downward, I mouthed a new prayer, knelt in air for deliverance, morphing into needle of a compass, unbeholden to a place inhospitable: the mind. The mind bent on forgetting: I was blown wide open.”

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Author:Su Hwang
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“To her surprise, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. For a moment, Claire couldn’t see his face properly. When he let go of her hand and looked up at her again, there was a peculiar expression on his face. It was full of longing, and it went so deep that Claire’s heart shattered. She didn’t feel sympathy for him. It was more a case of feeling a similar yearning, and it seemed to push her heart all the way to the back of her ribcage where it was being strangled against her spine and was likely to be squeezed out of life.”

LoveRomanceLonging
Book:A World Other Than Her Own
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“We ache with the yearning that turns half into whole and offer no excuses for the beauty of our souls.”

PassionBeautyLongingUnityYearningNonviolenceGlobalizationAcheExcusesHuman SoulSoulsCoexistenceSong LyricsMythology FictionAgape LoveMulticulturalismoNonviolent Conflict ResolutionNational Poetry MonthWorld Poetry DayHope For HumanityMythology PhilosophyPeacismWaging PeacePeace MakersSpiritual DesireLove Without ReasonZped Music PlayerMulticulturalitàSongs From The Black SkylarkLove Without FearMythopoeic FictionMythopoeic LiteraturePhilosophy Of DiversityPhilosophy Of MulticulturalismReconciliaitionSpiritual Grace
Book:Songs from the Black Skylark zPed Music Player
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“However much you have been wanting and hoping and dreaming of meeting the person of your dreams, it is only when you meet them that you will start missing them. It seems that the presence of an object is required to make its absence felt (or to make the absence of something felt). A kind of longing may have preceded their arrival, but you have to meet in order to feel the full force of your frustration in their absence.”

WantLovePsychologyLongingAbsenceFrustrationMissing Someone
Book:Missing Out: In Praise of the Unlived Life
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“She closed her eyes and began to weave a song. She abandoned the familiar melodies she’d played so many times before and went in search of something new, no longer wanting a song fed on pain or guilt. She needed one that could replace those wounds with strength, with resolve, with confidence. She needed a song that could not only assuage, but heal and build anew. The notes stumbled around the room, tripping over beds and empty stools and hollow men sleeping. They warbled and fell, haphazard, chaotic, settling without flight. Fin’s forehead creased and she persisted. She let her fingers wander, reached out with her mind. She chased the fleeting song she’d glimpsed once before. In Madeira she’d felt a hint of it: something wild, untameable, a thing sprung whole and flawless from the instant of creation.”

HopeHealingMusicCourageMusicianLongingViolinFiddle
Book:Fiddler's Green
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“Wait,” he said, and he had his hand outstretched toward me, fingertips just brushing the sleeve of my sweatshirt, gently rooting me to the spot. I wanted to shrug him off, but at the same time, I wanted to fall against him and bury my face in his shoulder. I wanted to commiserate about what had just happened, and make sure he was okay, and discuss how Stanton really is psychotic. I did none of the above.”

LoveLongingHoldingHighschool
Book:First & Then
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“Nothing is more excruciating than hopelessly longing for lost love.”

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Author:Ken Poirot
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“The president is not at all like the powerful icon I imagined her to be. She’s more like I remember Amma: small and delicate with a sari that dances behind her as she walks. Of course, the president is clad in white, the color that shows eternal mourning of a lost child, while Amma never wore white. She wore reds and oranges and deep greens. Colors of celebration, of happiness. Perhaps she wears white now. Now that I am dead to her.”

DeathMotherLongingMourningColors
Author:Holly Bodger
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“It was our first time really talking to one another. We talked about the weather. Now, I dont like surface conversations about the weather. It seems to just be a way to have a polite conversation because there isn't really much else to say. Sometimes it's a way to buffer an awkward situation, or light enough of a topic to carry in passing and quickly abandon without anything left hanging. But this particular weather discussion was far from that. It was so eloquent. We talked about how the weather can inspire certain longings. It was laced with romantic intonations. You could sense the magnitude of how powerful this energy transfer between us in the climate we were existing in, already was and could be.”

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Author:Kayko Tamaki
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“I'm comming to You. You are blazing. I'm giving You a rose. It embalms sweet. I'm givin a kiss... I melt of You. I melt and flow with You. Like an ice in a spring river. I melt and stay. Sun will vaporise us. It will take us up into clouds. And then we both will fall. Drop by drop. We'll fall out of the sky. We'll raise from dew to fog. Every sunny warm morning. We'll let the wind pull us with him. Cooling our selves in forest shadows. There in silence we'll cool off One from another. But in stormy days and nights. We'll billow and crash. One to another. Like crazy and wild. We'll churn into white foam. Ashore in sands we'll wait For the yellow october leaves Into them we'll fall asleep. We'll fall into and freeze. We'll freeze and melt again And flow and raise and fall again. Over and over again Even if we were in separete glasses of water. We would moove together and whisper. Even if in the oceans mixed. We would moove together and sing. I'm comming to You. You are blazing. I'm giving You a rose It embalms sweet. ... If I'll ever meet You. I' ll take our time... To dance dance dance dance with You...”

LoveRomanceLongingLove StoryLove QuoteLove LetterLong Distance LoveLong Distance RelationshipsMissing PersonLongings
Author:Martins Paparde
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“Longing was a feeling that was hard to live with. It didn’t ask permission. It didn’t pay attention to time or place. It was overwhelming and demanding, grasping and selfish. It clouded thoughts or made them too bright, too sharp. Longing demanded unconditional surrender. Lumikki tried to fight it and failed. She didn’t want to long and yet she longed. She didn’t want to remember, and yet her dreams and her body remembered, reminding her constantly. The longing was physical. It was dizziness. It was a seizing in her belly. It was the need to wrap her arms around herself alone in bed when there was no one else to do it for her. She felt the longing in her fingertips that yearned to stroke, to touch, to caress. The longing made her fingers restless, fiddling with the zipper of her jacket, the strings in her hoodie, fidgeting with whatever little thing happened to her hand. The longing made her teeth bite into her lower lip, leaving it chipped and almost bleeding. She knew she was being stupid. She knew her longing was pointless.”

LoveLonelinessLonging
Book:As White as Snow
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“The many contradictions in our lives – such as being home while feeling homeless, being busy while feeling bored, being popular while feeling lonely, being believers while feeling many doubts – can frustrate, irritate, and even discourage us. They make us feel that we are never fully present. Every door that opens for us makes us see how many more doors are closed. But there is another response. These same contradictions can bring us into touch with a deeper longing, for the fulfillment of a desire that lives beneath all desires and that only God can satisfy. Contradictions, thus understood, create the friction that can help us move toward God.”

GodLongingParadoxContradictions
Book:Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith
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“I've lived to see my longings die I've lived to see my longings die: My dreams and I have grown apart; Now only sorrow haunts my eye, The wages of a bitter heart. Beneath the storms of hostile fate, My flowery wreath has faded fast; I live alone and sadly wait To see when death will come at last. Just so, when the winds in winter moan And snow descends in frigid flakes, Upon a naked branch, alone, The final leaf of summer shakes!...”

Longing
Author:Alexander Sergeyevitch Pushkin
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“This was to say, however, that she did not long, at times, for some even greater variation, that she did not pass through those abnormal hours in which one thirsts for something different from what one has, when those people who, through lack of energy or imagination, are unable to generate any motive power in themselves, cry out, as the clock strikes or the postman knocks, in their eagerness for news (even if it be bad news), for some emotion (even that of grief); when the heartstrings, which prosperity has silenced, like a harp laid by, yearn to be plucked and sounded again by some hand, even a brutal hand, even if it shall break them; when the will, which has with such difficulty brought itself to subdue to its impulse, to renounce its right to abandon itself to its own uncontrolled desires, and consequent sufferings, would fain cast its guiding reins into the hands of circumstances, coercive and, it may be, cruel.”

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Author:Marcel Proust
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“The joy of having something comes from the length of time you have been wanting it, expecting it. Happiness really lies in the expectation. So once you achieve it, it loses its charm for you. Every happiness is imaginary: so long as you don’t possess it, it seems to be abounding happiness. But as soon as it is actualized, it ceases to be happiness; our hands are as empty as before. And then we seek some other object for our desire, and we begin to expect it again. We feel so unhappy without it and imagine that happiness will come with it.”

ExpectationsLongingTargetMissing SomeoneGoal Of Life
Book:Krishna: The Man and his Philosophy
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“আবার যখন এমনি আশ্বিন মাস আসবে- এমনি সন্ধ্যা আসবে- তখন কি করব বলতে পার? শিউলি তার দু’চোখ ভরা কথা নিয়ে আমার চখের উপর যেন উজাড় ক’রে দিল। তারপর ধীরে ধীরে বলল,-- “শিউলি ফুলের মালা নিয়ে জলে ভাসিয়ে দিও!” আমি নীরবে সায় দিলাম- তাই হবে! জিজ্ঞাসা করলাম, “তুমি কি করবে?” সে হেসে বলল, “আশ্বিনের শেষে ত শিউলি ঝরেই পড়ে।” আমাদের চোখের জল লেগে সন্ধ্যাতারা চিকচিক ক’রে উঠল। রাত্রে দাবা- খেলার আড্ডা বসল। প্রফেসর চৌধুরী আমার কাছে হেরে গেলেন। আমি শিউলির কাছে হেরে গেলাম! জীবনে আমার সেই প্রথম এবং শেষ হার। আর সেই হারাই আমার গলার হার হয়ে রইল। সকালে যখন বিদায় নিলাম- তখন তাদের বাংলোর চার পাশে উইলোতরু তুষারে ঢাকা পড়েছে! আর তার সাথে দেখা হয়নি- হবেও না! একটু হাত বাড়ালেই হয়ত ছুঁতে পারি তাকে, এত কাছে থাকে সে। তবু ছুঁতে সাহস হয় না। শিউলি ফুল- বড় মৃদু, বড় ভিরু, গলায় পরলে দু দণ্ডে আউরে যায়। তাই শিউলি ফুলের আশ্বিন যখন আসে – তখন নীরবে মালা গাঁথি আর জলে ভাসিয়ে দিই।”

LovePainLongingSeparationLost LoveSilent Love
Book:শিউলি মালা
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“The reins of our life are in the hands of the future. Man always lives today in the hope of tomorrow. And likewise he will live tomorrow in the hope of the day after, because when tomorrow comes, it will come as today. So he never lives really, he goes on postponing living for the future. And he will never live as long as he lives on hope for the future. His whole life will pass away unlived and unfulfilled. At the time of his death he will say with great remorse, ”All my life I only desired to live, but I could not really live.” He had wasted all his todays in the hope of a tomorrow that never came. And on the last day of his life he faces a cul-de-sac beyond which there is no tomorrow, and no hope of any fruits of action. That is the despair of a future-oriented life.”

PainLongingMiseryDivorceBreakupBetrayal QuotesUnrequitted Love
Book:Krishna: The Man and his Philosophy
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“I suffer from chronic nostalgia. Looking back makes me dizzy, queasy, and I yearn for it, ache for it. I want it back; maybe the homesickness will leave then. But it’s not the way I remember it. I long for a past that I didn’t have, for the same experiences with different emotions, without the pain, without the ambivalence, without the fear. My heart remembers two different lives and I long for the one I can only see now, in retrospect.”

LoveLife QuotesMemoriesGriefLongingNostalgiaPhilosophy Of LifePhilosophy QuotesMemories Of LoveNostalgic Memories
Author:Jacqueline Simon Gunn
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