longing

I remember the strength of her body writhing inside the velvet. And, suddenly, the velvet was gone as though my greedy hands had worn it away and she stood flushed and trembling before me. I forgave every complaint I had leveled against God at the sight of her tremulous beauty__isps of curls like trickles of burgundy trailing over breasts as plump and round as a pair of bandy hens fattened up for Sunday dinner. I could scarcely touch her. My fingertips traveled over her roundness. In rashness I gathered her to me, pressed against her ... lay her down. I was inside her before her back touched the sheets. Her sighs could give birth to new stars.

I love you, he thought, looking at Win. I love every part of you, every thought and word... the entire complex, fascinating bundle of all the things you are. I want you with ten different kinds of need at once. I love all the seasons of you, the way you are now, the thought of how much more beautiful you'll be in the decades to come. I love you for being the answer to every question my heart could ask.And it seemed so easy, once he capitulated. It seemed natural and right.Kev wasn't certain if he was surrendering to Win or to his own passion for her. Only that there was no more holding back. He would take her. And he would give her everything he had, every part of his soul, even the broken pieces.

Sometimes he wondered if he did these things just to test himself. To see if the feelings had gone. But they had not. When he saw her, he wanted to be with her; when he was with her, he ached to touch her; when he touched even her hand, he wanted to embrace her. He wanted to feel her against him the way he had in the attic. He wanted to know the taste of her skin and the smell of her hair. He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to sit and listen to her talk about books until his ears fell off. But all these things he could not want, because they were things he could not have, and wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness.

So you made them your world? In that case, you must really be powerful. I only know one person who can create the world and that is GOD. If you have the power to create the world out of somebody who clearly doesn`t deserve the honour;Imagine what you could do for the person who deserves it and that is You,

On the train I saw that world passing my window. It was when I came to see it was I who was passing that my self-centered childhood was over. But it was not until I began to write, that I found the world out there revealing, because memory had become attached to seeing, love had added itself to discovery, and because I recognized in my own continuing longing to keep going, the need I carried inside myself to know - the apprehension, first, and then the passion, to connect myself to it. Through travel I first became aware of the outside world; it was through travel that I found my own introspective way into becoming a part of it. This is, of course, simply saying that the outside world is the vital component of my inner life. My imagination takes its strength and guides its direction from what I see and hear and learn and feel and remember of my living world. But I was to learn slowly that both these worlds, outer and inner, were different from what they seemed to me in the beginning.

I imagine a line, a white line, painted on the sand and on the ocean, from me to you.

You know what, your imagination works faster than your mind.

The Memory Of You Is Like A Drug To Me

Some people look as if they have lost their eagerness and passion. Their aspiration seems to be exhausted and fresh inspiration has abandoned their weary mind. Life has boundlessly given them material welfare, which has fully spoiled them in the end. No energy for longing has been left, as they have reached a twilight zone. The twilight of desire. ( "Twilight of desire" )

I go fishing in my mind. I put out bait, the bait of my own longing, my desire, and my hunger for connection, for a tug of something alive at the end of a line. Something that I may have to struggle with to pull in, but that will be wild and important to me, whether I keep it or let it go.

To love is to think.And I almost forget to feel only from thinking about her.I don__ know what I want at all, even from her, and I don__ think about anything but her.I have a great animated distraction.When I want to meet her,I almost feel like not meeting her,So I don__ have to leave her afterwards.And I prefer thinking about her, because it__ like I__ afraid of her.I don__ know what I want at all, and I don__ want to know what I want. All I want to do is think about her.I__ asking nothing of nobody, not even her, except to think.

Home is where they want you to stay longer

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

Gratitude is the best food to start and sustain you. Hankering creates hunger, unhappiness, bellyache, headache and heartache - and often leaves a bitter taste

Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great.

The Decision...I wiped my hands on my pinaforenow sullied and stainednot crisp or pressedas it had been before...

He gazed into eyes the color of a summer morning sky and sighed. It felt as if his soul had just come home.

What had survived - maybe all that had survived of Trism - was Liir's sense of him. A catalog of impressions that arose from time to time, unbidden and often upsetting. From the sandy smell of his sandy hair to the locked grip of his muscles as they had wrestled in sensuous aggression - unwelcome nostalgia. Trism lived in Liir's heart like a full suit of clothes in a wardrobe, dress habillards maybe, hollow and real at once. The involuntary memory of the best of Trism's glinting virtues sometimes kicked up unquietable spasms of longing.