longing

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

Wanting him to come back before anyone notices part of the world has not moved since he left.

The temptation is too strong for me. Oh, Lord! where is Thy peace that I believed in, in my childhood? _ that I hear people speaking of now, as if it hushed up the troubles of life, and had not to be sought for _ sought for, as with tears of blood! [-Jemima, chapter 26, pg. 275]

The glitter in the sky looks as if I could scoop it all up in my hands and let the stars swirl and touch one another but they are so distant so very far apart that they cannot feel the warmth of each other even though they are made of burning.

It's easy to equate longing with love. It's the same way it was with your mother. You worked to earn her love. You loved and were not appreciated. You learned that love was Work and Wanting and Giving and Longing. This is what you learned love was and you are still trying to find it by that old definition. But that is not what love is.

Her face felt like it was scattered in pieces and she could not keep it straight. The feeling was a whole lot worse than being hungry for any dinner, yet it was like that. I want--I want--I want--was all that she could think about--but just what this real want was she did no know.

Those who seek eternity find a mind of infinity

You are the Poem I dreamed of writing, the Masterpiece I longed to paint. You are the shining Star I reached for in my ever hopeful quest for life fulfilled. Yes, I am Blessed.

Poetry is a storm asking peace to dance with her.

I realized that the longing for art, like the longing for love, is a malady that blinds us, and makes us forget the things we already know, obscuring reality.

Just one caress became a symphony of passion, insatiable longing, an unquenchable desire to possess.... Gasps... The sparkling touch, embrace make hard to breathe... A mere short burst of brilliance, explosive need...forbidden sweet... Beneath the warmth of a dancing rainbow summer sunset, slowly tuning into the magic night with the stars flooding the sapphire skies...the sacred emerald island wildlife listens to our song, played with loving fingertips, reflected in diving deep into each other's ocean eyes...

Thou I cannot so freely say, My heart is with thee, my soul longeth after thee ; yet can I say, I long for such a longing heart (648).

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.

The dead are immune from our prison of Time. The distance between the living and dead may be vast, but the space of Time the dead experience when they are reunited with their loved ones is only paper-thin.

Every touch of you on my skin has burnt and etched your name on my soul. Whenever I close my eyes and try to feel myself, all I can hear is constant echoes of your name in my head, and all I can feel is the constant longing for the darkness.

One of the open secrets of life on earth is that the answer to life__ burning question has been inscribed in one__ 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__ 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.

Rain, Aren__ you my soul__ joyful tearsonly longing for the sky to be happy?

The Portuguese call it saudade: a longing for something so indefinite as to be indefinable. Love affairs, miseries of life, the way things were, people already dead, those who left and the ocean that tossed them on the shores of a different land _ all things born of the soul that can only be felt.