Best 608 quotes in «longing quotes» category

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    I was like a ten-year-old kid who had been scraped off a mother's love so sudden and surreal that I kept hoping I could chant a few magical words and slowly, Mama Jas would materialise in front of me.

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    I was so incredibly nostalgic for a life I knew I'd never, ever have again.

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    I will look at you in the darkness of the night, where there are no colours to fill my eyes and where there are no frames that would define your shape. In the silence, I will seek the warmth of the night in your memories and sleep holding tight those orphan dreams. O dear, amidst the cloudy skies, where did you disappear?

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    I will never claim to know what you are thinking. I only hope I am on your mind.

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    I wish I knew how to get you back. And apparently fate won't let me give up" From Central Park Song: a Screenplay

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    I will lead a man to dear one -- I don't want the little joy -- And I'll quietly lay to sleep The glad, tired little boy. In a chilly room once more I will pray to Mother of God, It is hard to be a hermit, To be happy is also hard. Only fiery sleep will come to me, I'll enter a temple on the hill, Five-domed, white, and stone-hewn, On the paths remembered well.

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    I wish I had heard him more clearly: an oblique confession is always a plea.

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    Living in a state of constant wistful despair, perhaps, will be my destiny, said the traveller. Longing to be touched by you, will perhaps, be mine, whispered back the horizon.

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    I wish to stay drenched forever in those rain-blue eyes in those...soul-reaching crystals not moving a muscle nor breathing just savoring this turquoise ache against my heart.

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    Longing, whether for a passion or person, is one of the most powerful, yet painful, emotions there is. It can drive you to its source under the most extreme conditions, or it can cripple you from obtaining your dreams. When it comes to the pull you feel, always go after it, if not, it'll eat you alive.

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    Long past the moment when her neck begins to stiffen and ache, she continues to stare into the darkness, even though none of the human secrets she needs to know are to be found in the stars but rather closer to the earth her boots stand upon.

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    I wonder if you ever read my poems and wish they were written for you.

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    Love is the essence of life, Love is the universal language of all creation, Love is the eternal desire, Love is the life's flower with fragrance to share, So feel the longing for love and being beloved.

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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.

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    Love ... was part imagination, its web spun as much in the dark lonely separated evenings of longing as in the shared times together.

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    Love is what we long for, for we are Love itself.

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    Lying half-asleep in his embrace, I looked up and saw on his face the same expression I saw on countless lonely faces every day. It was the homesick look of the children who were lost in the chaos of warfare, witnessing death and disaster, longing for a meaningful touch.

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    Love can't exist without longing.

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    May the light be in you forever, May the sun love you and keep you, May the dream make you awaken. For the stars love to shine upon you, And the heavens cry for your loss. May goodness and love flow through you once more, Drink of the light and the love here, Find that we all need you, May your spirit come back across.

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    Memories lurk like dustballs in the backs of drawers. The stereo is a special model that plays only music fraught with poignant associations.

    • longing quotes
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    Maybe our bodies are just hearts with legs and that’s why we’re so quick to run.

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    MODERN LOVE is so pathetic because of people's shallowness. Clearly people don't really care about understanding the actual deeper needs of others. The word 'longing' makes them cringe because they intrinsically know it's calling them into a DEEP PLACE OF CONNECTION. They'd rather open another bag of Dorridos, I tell you.

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    Maybe he would see me as weak and stupid. Maybe he was right.

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    Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore My love was infinite, if spring makes it more.

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    Mika: Were you happy? Hiro: I was so happy.

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    Miró hacia la biblioteca. Aquella sabiduría no calmaría nunca su fuego; siglos y siglos de palabras no podían satisfacer aquel deseo imperativo e irracional.

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    Min ene sko knirker af mangel på stjerneskud

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    MOMENTS I saw you first You looked exactly The same as before Tall and awkward and shy I walked towards you My hands clammy I felt cold inside My insides were shaking Cant run This is it. U saw me Your face brightened A smile painted on your face I missed it Your smile It brought back the past You walked I walked Nearer It feels like in the Movies Two people A boy and a girl Meeting halfway Hoping for a happy Ever after I stopped Right before I reached you I realized This isn't like the movies I turned I told myself Don’t smile You reached me Close So close I felt the urge To touch you Hug you And maybe Kiss you There weren't Hellos Only silent prayers Smiling You reached for my hand Giving me something You knew I love It was awkward You standing there Me standing there So close Too close Yet so far I looked up to you I tried to ask myself Are you for real? You smiled wider Shy but happy You left as fast As you came back It was for a second I hated time I wished it was A little bit longer With that, I knew I still want you.

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    My dear boy, looking like a thing has little to do with being a thing. Be the thing first, and you will grow to resemble it.

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    ...my body has become another country and I feel like an unemployed illegal alien how will I survive where I do not belong I belong with you

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    My lips have touched more bottles than lovers and I'm half a shot away from psychotic.

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    New York,” I have a good friend there. I found a job, a place. I had to- away from here; away from Bella; from you.” Swallowing, I clasped my hands together to stop from trembling and I said in a low, audible voice, “From me?” He sighed heavily. “I can’t love you, Helena. I still love Bella. And I suppose I could love another woman in another way at the same time, but not you.” “…but why?” I tried hard to keep my voice and gaze even. I glanced at the plain wedding ring on the third finger on his left hand, his wedding band. It was gleaming brightly in the firelight. I felt my heart plummet, like a disappointed child. Seeking the right words, he replied with a very soft voice, “It’s because I would always see you as an extension of her. I want to fall in love with you in separate way, the one that involves only us, uninfluenced by the past and our hurt. I can’t do that now and I can’t tell when I’ll be able to.

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    My beloved has arrived, but rather than greeting him, All I can do is bite the corner of my apron with a blank expression- What an awkward woman am I. My heart has longed for him as hugely and openly as a full moon But instead I narrow my eyes, and my glance to him Is sharp and narrow as the crescent moon. But then, I'm not the only one who behaves this way. My mother and my mother's mother were as silly and stumbling as I am when they were girls... Still, the love from my heart is overflowing, As bright and crimson as the heated metal in a blacksmith's forge.

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    My letters! all dead paper, mute and white! And yet they seem alive and quivering Against my tremulous hands which loose the string And let them drop down on my knee to-night. This said, -- he wished to have me in his sight Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring To come and touch my hand ... a simple thing, Yet I wept for it! -- this, ... the paper's light ... Said, Dear I love thee; and I sank and quailed As if God's future thundered on my past. This said, I am thine -- and so its ink has paled With lying at my heart that beat too fast. And this ... O Love, thy words have ill availed If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!

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    My mind is being consumed by you. My body is longing for you. Just one touch or a kiss, And I shall be satiated for a thousand years.

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    Nights I stay up writing about you, wondering where you've gone, my heart doesn't understand your absence, I do my best to reassure, but its erratic beating tells me it doesn't believe my lies.

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    Nothing big ever happens, good or bad, unless the floor falls out first. Let your longing wind you down through that spiral. And know that falling can be the most wickedly awesome and totally safe thing you’ve ever done. Down, down, down, because when you hit that solid ground you’ll know. You might touch down softly, or you might land in an ungraceful thud. But land you will and when you’re ready, you can stretch your shaky legs, dust yourself off tossing your head back to the heavens and proclaim ‘Here I am! All that I am, and all that I will be.” And your heart will still love what it loves. And you will remember that was good in you, and in her. And these memories will comfort and will serve you as you move through life, open to love – wherever and whenever it finds you.

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    Nos·tal·gia (n): A feeling that lingers long after the taste is gone.

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    Not that time alone with Ingrid was something to wish away. She'd chosen him. Given herself to him, and even though he couldn't claim her in the human way, she was still his. Passing the day and night in the quiet town home was giving him a taste of his fantasy, sweet as meringue and just as easily dissolved.

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    Nostalgia is a longing for your home.

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    Nothing is more excruciating than hopelessly longing for lost love.

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    ...now that I was beside him, I realized the folly in believing lust and desire for this man would stay outside the door like an obedient dog waiting to be called in.

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    Oh my dear! I think about you always and miss you forever.

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    Oh Christ, if I could only have some happiness.

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    O mundo todo é ligeiramente chato, parece.O que importa na vida é estar junto de quem se gosta.

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    Oh pillow, please continue to kiss my cheek round. I'll let you listen to my dreams to see the girl you'll never meet.

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    Now you can all have a wish -- the Moomin family first!" Moominmamma hesitated a bit. "Should it be something you can see?" she asked, "or an idea? If you know what I mean, Mr. Hobgoblin?" "Oh, yes!" said the Hobgoblin. "Things are easier of course, but it will work with an idea too." "Then I want to wish that Moomintroll will stop missing Snufkin," said Moominmamma. "Oh, dear!" said Moomintroll going pink, "I didn't know it was so obvious!" But the Hobgoblin waved his cloak once, and immediately the sadness flew out of Moomintroll's heart. His longing just became an expectancy, and that felt much better.

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    One evening he was in his room, his brow pressing hard against the pane, looking, without seeing them, at the chestnut trees in the park, which had lost much of their russet-coloured foliage. A heavy mist obscured the distance, and the night was falling grey rather than black, stepping cautiously with its velvet feet upon the tops of the trees. A great swan plunged and replunged amorously its neck and shoulders into the smoking water of the river, and its whiteness made it show in the darkness like a great star of snow. It was the single living being that somewhat enlivened the lonely landscape.

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    One of the open secrets of life on earth is that the answer to life’s burning question has been inscribed in one’s soul all along. The soul is a kind of ancient vessel that holds the exact knowledge we seek and need to find our way in life. Each life is a pilgrimage intended to arrive at the center of the pilgrim’s soul. From that vantage point, the issue is not whether we managed to choose the right god or the only way to live righteously; such notions fail to recognize the inborn intimacy each soul already has with the divine.

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    One spirit remained unaware of his presence, staring at Miss Parker with such longing that he reluctantly decided to let it stay. The spirit, a hollow-eyed girl with ringlets and clothing from long past, reached toward Percy, wishing to touch her. Alexi understood. When left to her own devices, Miss Parker was neither shy nor awkward; she was radiant.