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Longing Quotes

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Longing Quotes

“Across the ethereal realms, whether in heaven's embrace or amidst the trials of hell, my heart declared that it was her, and only her, who held the key to my happiness. In any corner of existence, be it heaven or hell, she was the beacon of light that guided my path, the solace that soothed my tormented soul.”

LoveHappinessLove QuotesLongingHeartacheSoulmatesMadly In LoveLonging For SomeoneLove Language
Book:Serenade of Solitude
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“He did not require beauty or vast intelligence or great wit. Just one woman whose heart and soul seemed to be in communion with his. One woman who would look into his hear and see who he really was. One woman who would truly love him. He kept his eyes on this possibility wherever he went, and nowhere , it seemed, was the love that he longed for.”

LoveLongingHeartacheJane EyreEdward Fairfax RochesterEdward RochesterEfrJane Eyre S HusbandReimagined CharacterTara Bradley
Book:Jane Eyre's Husband - The Life of Edward Rochester
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“It is December in Paris. It was already December when I set out from Luanda, leaving the radiance of your gaze behind me. And it will be December yet, even after the month is over, and then will come only more December and winter, and December again and always the same, until l come back to the Sunny Season, and the land which is lit everywhere, always, by your gaze.”

LoveSummerLettersLongingWinterNostalgiaEyesMissing YouLove LettersGaze
Book:Nação Crioula
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“Clutching his prize, Erik felt his face widen. She smiled back at him. Neither of them had said so much as hello yet she was looking at him with those eyes. Deep in the cathedral of his young being, Erik felt a bell toll, a peal of recognition. And for the rest of his life, he would swear, he would swear to anyone who asked, although nothing was said aloud, he heard Daisy Bianco speak to him. She said it with her eyes, he heard it clearly in his head, and it wasn’t hello. It was, “Well, here you are.” Here I am, he thought. Her expression grew expansive. The green in her eyes deepened. David cleared his throat. “Go put some shoes on, honey. Nails are all over the damn place.” “See ya,” she said, looking at Erik. Her voice was soft, a secret meant only for his ears. “Bye.” His mouth formed the word with barely a sound. It rose like a shimmering bubble and followed Daisy out the door. Pointedly David retrieved his lunch. Erik surrendered it, and through the glass of the lighting booth he watched Daisy walk back down the aisle of the auditorium. Sat and watched her as the atoms in his body slowly rearranged themselves.”

LongingLove At First SightSoul MateThe OneAt Long Last
Author:Susanne Laqueur
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“আমার বেদনাখানি রেখে যাবো বাঁশির ভেতরে অনেক ঋতুর শেষে তুমি এসে তুলে নিলে বেজে উঠবে আনন্দলহরী এভাবেই চিরকাল মুছে যাবে তোমার আমার সমূহ দূরত্বকথা সকল অন্তর”

LoveJoyPoetryLongingDistanceBengaliBangla
Book:কাব্যসংগ্রহ
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“I looked out the window at midnight and watched the snow drop slowly to the ground. It was 2004 at last and new beginnings were about to be discovered. All I can wish is that they can be created on the spot, but it'll have to wait. I have some time to make my wishes come true.”

High SchoolLongingTraumaTeenagerComing Of AgeAbandonedNew YearWishingHopeful And Encouraging
Book:A World So Bright and Dark: The Journal of Lizzie Colleen MacDougal
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“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

LoveRomanceDesirePassionHopeFunSexFearMemoriesMarriageComedyDangerBooksAdventureLoversDramaSurvivalRomanticMurderHotLongingPassionateTerrorScarySexyBetrayalRevengeDeceptionLife ChangingChoiceSunsetRescueLove At First SightTimelessRoyalEverlastingEroticRoyaltyProposalSoul SearchingKingExoticAmourSoul MateAlpha MaleQueenGunsPsychoticPrinceForever LoveKillerAlphaDaydreamPalaceDaydreamsE BookDeceiptHot Intrigue
Book:To Kiss a King
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“Today is the winter solstice. The planet tilts just so to its star, lists and holds circling in a fixed tension between veering and longing, and spins helpless, exalted, in and out of that fleet blazing touch. Last night Orion vaulted and spread all over the sky, pagan and lunatic, his shoulder and knee on fire, his sword three suns at the ready-for what? I won’t see this year again, not again so innocent; and longing wrapped round my throat like a scarf. “For the Heavenly Father desires that we should see,” says Ruysbroeck, “and that is why He is ever saying to our inmost spirit one deep unfathomable word and nothing else.” But what is the word? Is this mystery or coyness? A cast-iron bell hung from the arch of my rib cage; when I stirred, it rang, or it tolled, a long syllable pulsing ripples up my lungs and down the gritty sap inside my bones, and I couldn’t make it out; I felt the voiced vowel like a sigh or a note but I couldn’t catch the consonant that shaped it into sense.”

SoulPhilosophyGodLightScienceJoySpiritPoetryReligionFaithBeliefEnergyGrowthNatureFreedomPrayerConsciousnessWonderBeautyPowerFireGraceFateSeeingMysteryCreationHumilityPoetPrayingWalkingPoemMindfulnessPraiseLongingCuriositySeekingToleranceFearlessExplorationGapsJoyfulFreeIlluminationDisbeliefEpiphanyPrayersAmenMultiplicityJoyfulnessHallelujahWatchingIntricacyReligious DiversityLife ForceLiving In The Present MomentEnoughnessPhilosopher S StoneExultantStalking The GapsThe Tree With The Lights In ItRing The Bells
Book:PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK
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“Year after year of dirty snow and bitter winds… houses and whole districts of people who aren’t really unhappy, but worse, who are neither happy nor unhappy; people who are ugly because they’re neither ugly nor beautiful; creatures that are dismally neutral, who long without longings as though they’re unconscious, unconsciously suffering from being alive.”

HappinessConsciousnessLivingLonging
Book:Rhinoceros / The Chairs / The Lesson
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“You see the first thing we love is a scene. For love at first sight requires the very sign of its suddenness; and of all things, it is the scene which seems to be seen best for the first time: a curtain parts and what had not yet ever been seen is devoured by the eyes: the scene consecrates the object I am going to love. The context is the constellation of elements, harmoniously arranged that encompass the experience of the amorous subject... Love at first sight is always spoken in the past tense. The scene is perfectly adapted to this temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, it is already a memory (the nature of a photograph is not to represent but to memorialize)... this scene has all the magnificence of an accident: I cannot get over having had this good fortune: to meet what matches my desire. The gesture of the amorous embrace seems to fulfill, for a time, the subject's dream of total union with the loved being: The longing for consummation with the other... In this moment, everything is suspended: time, law, prohibition: nothing is exhausted, nothing is wanted: all desires are abolished, for they seem definitively fulfilled... A moment of affirmation; for a certain time, though a finite one, a deranged interval, something has been successful: I have been fulfilled (all my desires abolished by the plenitude of their satisfaction).”

LoveSuccessDesireTimeChanceExperienceEmbraceLongingFortuneMemorySatisfactionLove At First SightAffirmationMomentUnionAmorousContextGestureConsummation
Book:A lover's discourse: fragments
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“O Dionysus O Dionysus, Plague me with your Drunken spirit, Fill my veins with the rush, With the ecstasy and the bliss, Let me revel in your happiness O Dionysus, I beg you drive me insane Drive me far So far, I can never come back down, My mind cannot go on, Let me revel in your happiness O Dionysus, I want it all, I want to dream of trees Becoming drops of colours, I want to dream of honey Bubbling from the grounds, I want to dream of clouds Dancing and dancing, I want to feel, To feel and feel and feel, Until I can feel no more O Dionysus, You have my cure, But you won't give it To me.”

MadnessLongingDionysus
Author:-L.S.
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“Home is a damaged word, bruisable as fruit, in the cruel glossaries of the language I choose to describe the long, fearful march of my childhood. Home was a word that caught in my throat, stung like a paper cut, drew blood in its passover of my life, and hurt me in all the soft places. My longing for home was as powerful as fire in my bloodstream.”

HomeLongingLonging For HomeLonging To Belong
Book:The Pat Conroy Cookbook: Recipes of My Life
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“I ached abruptly, intolerably, with a longing to go home; not to that hotel, in one of the alleys of Paris, where the concierge barred the way with my unpaid bill; but home, home across the ocean, to things and people I knew and understood; to those things, those places, those people which I would always helplessly, and in whatever bitterness of spirit, love above all else. I had never realized such a sentiment in myself before, and it frightened me. I saw myself, sharply, as a wanderer, an adventurer, rocking through the world, unanchored. I looked at Giovanni's face, which did not help me. He belonged to this strange city, which did not belong to me. I began to see that, while what was happening to me was not so strange as it would have comforted me to believe, yet it was strange beyond belief. It was not really so strange, so unprecedented, though voices deep within me boomed, For shame! For shame! that I should be so abruptly, so hideously entangled with a boy; what was strange was that this was but one tiny aspect of the dreadful human tangle, occurring everywhere, without end, forever.”

LoveHomeLonelinessLongingHomosexualityStrangenessHomesickness
Book:Giovanni’s Room
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“Nostalgia (from "nostos" - return home, and "algia" - longing) is a longing for a home that no longer exists or has never existed. Nostalgia is a sentiment of loss and displacement, but it is also a romance with one's own fantasy. Nostalgic love can only survive in a long-distance relationship. A cinematic image of nostalgia is a double exposure, or a superimposition of two images - of home and abroad, past and present, dream and everyday life. The moment we try to force it into a single image, it breaks the frame or burns the surface.”

LifeHomeLossRelationshipLongingNostalgia
Book:The Future of Nostalgia
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“My friend.. Today I missed you. I wanted to tell you what's going on with me, And hear what's going on with you, but something destroyed my phone And I lost my loved ones' phone numbers... I wonder.. Did something destroy your phone too? Is that why you lost my phone number as well? My friend.. Today I made a kite with some of the kids here. I attached a message to it, hoping it would reach you. And as soon as it flew freely in our sky, I let go of the thread and watched it flew farther and farther.. hoping it wouldn't lose its way.. Perhaps it's still remembers our city that has became unfamiliar! My friend.. It seems that my kite is lost just like the pigeons and the phone numbers are lost, and the way is lost, only a few dreams remain, or even less than a few... My friend.. I still watch the sky, and watch the children's kites, perhaps one of them carries a message from you to me... letters in wartime”

HomePainLongingKitesPeacetoberMy Friend
Author:Sara Ahmed
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“This morning, my grandmother stretched out her hand to feel the air, then raised her head to the sky and said, “It's fig harvest time.” She sat silently for the rest of the day. My friend, it seems that we all yearn for even the smallest details and simplest things that were once a part of our lives. Like the fig trees and the day of their harvest. Do you remember the day my mother made me cut a large pot filled with figs to make jam for us, and you came to help me? Do you remember the secrets and stories we shared over that pot of figs? And do you remember helping my grandmother knead the cookie dough afterwards? The taste of laughter, the smell of the house, and the warmth of our hearts as we dipped those cookies in the fig jam. My friend, will we ever make jam and cookies together again? Or will we continue to long for our memories, loved ones, friends, and fig trees? letters in wartime”

HomePainLongingPeacetoberMy FriendFig
Author:Sara Ahmed
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“When we first left home, my little brother asked me, "Where are we going?" I told him, "Just a short trip." However, it turned out to be more than just a short trip, it was a big pain. It seems that I ruined the excitement of the trip for my little brother because after having to leave five or six times, he stopped asking and just got used to leaving without arguing. Do you remember our last trip? That day, my uncle gathered all the boys and girls, relatives and friends, made us sandwiches, borrowed his friend's big car, and took us to the beach. I wonder everyday if my kites will reach my uncle. His phone is still off. Or is he waiting for us under the fig tree at our old house? If you ever meet him, please tell him that my little brother needs someone to show him the true meaning of a trip. Maybe he can make him laugh again. - letters in wartime”

HomePainLongingTripPeacetoberMy Friend
Author:Sara Ahmed
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“My friend.. Do you remember when they told us that every flower has a meaning and every color has its significance? They say.. There is a red flower in a faraway land that symbolizes deep sadness. My friend.. Which flower can scream with longing and cry with yearning and take revenge for the broken laughs? Maybe those poppy flowers do that? Maybe we can hide inside of them like fetuses sleeping peacefully? My friend.. I have never held those poppy flowers before.. I don't know how they feel or smell but.. It seems that those poppy flowers dig into memories and summon tears.. - letters in wartime”

HomePainLongingPoppyPeacetoberMy Friend
Author:Sara Ahmed
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“Can you imagine being royalty but being treated like a servant? Can you imagine being the daughter of the true king but being held in low regard and never setting foot in your home country for as long as you live? Can you imagine being destined to reign yet never even hearing your true name? Of course you can.”

HomeDestinyIdentityLongingSelf WorthBelongingTrue SelfExileRoyaltyDaughter Of God
Book:Becoming Myself: Embracing God's Dream of You
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“In the silence of EXILE, echoes of longing resonate, whispering tales of a home left behind. Dreams cling to distant landscapes, and the heart, a wanderer, seeks solace in the shadows of nostalgia. The soul, a nomad, yearns for the warmth of belonging, tracing memories like constellations in the vast emptiness of distance. Exile, a poignant coherence of loss, carries the weight of unspoken goodbyes, yet within its somber notes, resilience blossoms, a testament to the enduring spirit that persists, resilient in the face of separation.”

HomeLongingResilienceNostalgiaSeparationEmptinessBelongingExileGoodbyes
Author:Monika Ajay Kaul
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