Longingly Quotes

Congratulations, Jethro. Happy for you."

"Thanks, Drew."

The two men stared at each other and something passed between them, an understanding of some sort.

"Oh great, now Drew and Jethro can mind-meld. I'm getting out of here." I turned from the group and their chuckles.

"Come on, Cletus. Stick around. I'll gaze longingly into your eyes. Us single guys need to stick together," Beau called after me. ~ Penny Reid

A shy kid might look longingly at other kids playing in the schoolyard, afraid and unsure about how to approach them, but an introvert is perfectly content on her own. ~ Laurie Helgoe

What is afraid?' asked Peter longingly. He thought it must be some splendid thing. 'I do wish you would teach me how to be afraid, Maimie,' he said. ~ J.M. Barrie

Do good works or commission an opera house or just take it out and gaze at it longingly when you think of the handsome prince you might have made your own. For the record, I favor the latter option, preferably paired with copious tears and the recitation of bad poetry. ~ Leigh Bardugo

She saw each of the men enter the room and look her up and down. One by one their eyes followed her, watching her every move. Suddenly she ripped the covers off the bed and laid down on it, turned and looked back at them longingly, silently communicating with her actions and expectant stare that she was ready. ~ A.L. Haddix

Our eyes met and a never-before feeling entered our hearts. We gazed at each other longingly. We were indeed smitten by each other. Even before we realised, our lips locked. Ah, my first kiss. I had heard stories of how the first kiss is etched in one's memory forever. This was absolute bliss. I felt a sense of belonging, a sense of togetherness. He took me by surprise with his proposal of love for me. Those magical words still linger in my heart. My dream of finding the right man had become a reality. ~ Jagdish Joghee

Near Taksim he suddenly found himself inside a crowd of people leaving a movie theater. They were staring straight ahead, as if in a trance, walking down the stairs arm in arm or with their hands plunged in their pockets, and Galip was so overwhelmed by what he read in their faces and that his own nightmare faded into the background. What he read in their faces was peace: these people had been able to forget their own sadness by immersing themselves in a story. They were here, on this wretched street, but at the same time they were there, inside the story to which they'd so eagerly given themselves over. They had gone into theater with minds sucked dry by pain and defeat,but now their minds were full again with rich story that gave meaning to their memories and their melancholy. They can believe they're someone else! thought Galip longingly. For a moment he was tempted to go in to watch the film they'd just seen,to lose himself in the same story and become someone else. As they wandered down the street, stopping now and again to gaze into boring shop windows, Galip watched the return to the dull and dreary world they knew so well.
They don't make much effort! Thought Galip. ~ Orhan Pamuk

A country that has yielded a billion and a half of gold is, perforce, well and favorably known to the uttermost parts of the earth. Though the stream of yellow wealth diminishes, or even ceases to flow, yet the channel is carved through which the thoughts of men longingly roll. Upon such a land no limit of impossibility is placed. ~ Frank Lewis Nason

The world comes to life. Wisps of green steal across the fields, rich with the promise of spring. Tiny shoots push through the soil. Virgin buds uncoil at the tips of branches. Soft, fresh grass sweeps and swells across the meadows. Thornbushes blossom on the hillsides. The walnut tress have survived the winter, though their antlered crowns still stand bare. Fresh leaves reach longingly for rain from the sky. ~ Miklos Vamos

I want to take retirement rather than feel as if it's taking me unawares. Maybe even seize it joyously. But at least behold it without looking back so longingly that I turn into a pillar of regret. ~ Klaus H. Carl

C.J. had spoken longingly of finding the African termite queen, the glistening white sac that was half a foot long and as thick as a bratwurst, bursting with eggs and creamy insect fat, the queen you ate alive and whole, and she was said to twitch as she went down your throat. (188) ~ Richard Preston

She glanced at me briefly
I looked at her longingly,
so she believed
Finally relieved. ~ Sumrit Shahi

life. She leaned back in her chair, blinked back a tear and looked at her oak dining room table. The evening had taken her several hours to prepare. She concentrated on the two candles in the center. She watched as the flame flickered and wondered if one of them would go out. She heard the grandfather clock chime and one of the candles finally did burn out. More tears were stinging her eyes as she longingly looked at the door. She was becoming disconsolate and wanted to know what had become of her husband. Even on the most chaotic of days he had never forgotten their anniversary. He had always found a way ~ S.C. King

Coraline opened the box of chocolates. The dog looked at them longingly.
"Would you like one?" she asked the little dog.
"Yes, please," whispered the dog. "Only not toffee ones. They make me drool."
"I thought chocolates weren't very good for dogs," she said, remembering something Miss Forcible had once told her.
"Maybe where you come from," whispered the little dog. "Here, it's all we eat. ~ Neil Gaiman

Outside, across the putrid moat and under the dark mute trees, I would often lie and dream for hours about what I read in the books; and would longingly picture myself amidst gay crowds in the sunny world beyond the endless forests. ~ H.P. Lovecraft

131and do not gaze longingly at what We have given some of them to enjoy, the finery of this present life: We test them through this, but the provision of your Lord is better and more lasting. ~ Anonymous

The philosopher's hesitation about language is a chastening reminder that we ought not place too much faith in whatever our religious construct is. When the construct fails us, as it surely will, we will remember that there was presumption in giving our heart so wholly to whatever it was we had said about God anyway. And when the construct fails us, maybe we will glimpse the God beneath the picture we had faithfully, longingly, lovingly made. Hush. In this poverty of expression, thou findest that He is all. ~ Lauren F. Winner

If you could step inside my world, here is what you would see......
A lifeless soul who is in constant search of not only someone to love but for someone to please show me how to love myself. Someone whose deepest wish is to feel what it is like to truly be loved for who I am.
You would see a desperate being in a constant battle with her emotions. Praying no person could see the obvious envy that consumes her soul as she longingly observes the happiness and the joy that accompanies family and true friendships. A gathering of those who most certainly care about each other, to create cherished memories that will be forever etched in their hearts. Memories they have created to fondly look back on in the years to come.
You would see the forced insincere smile that must be worn when in the public eye because being pleasant is a requirement amongst your peers, even though you are completely dying inside.
You would see how i wake up every morning alone in the barely inhabitable box i reside in that hides me from having to share my pain and sadness with the world. And when the night skies appear, you would see me grateful that it is once again time for me to be reunited with the lonely, yet welcoming call of my bed in that same inhabitable box.
You would see me, most eager to surrender to the sleep that would soon follow, for that is when my pain ceases to exist.
My world....when most of you fantasize and anxiously anticipate what adventures lie bef ~ Robin Romero

Jak looks at me mock-longingly and spouts three more random Spanish words: "Amor y cacahuetes."
"Love and peanuts?" I ask.
Jak nods. "Love and peanuts. ~ Aaron Karo

When I come home from school, I take my Doc Martens off and put on fake satin mules with the marabou trim, slip into my dressing gown and my movie, and I feel serene. I hold a glass of Coke to my cheek and pretend it is a glass of bourbon and I am in New Orleans. My bedroom door is the doorway onto the street and at night I can't sleep because of the heat and the commotion in this town. So I go down to the river and dance as a man with scars on his face plays an accordion. People clap along and wolf-whistle and I whip my skirt around my thighs, which are long and lean because I barely get a chance to eat, what with all my bourbon and afternoon baths. I dance until my mules get muddy, then I tiptoe home, followed by sailors and men who have hundreds and thousands of dollars playing stud poker. Steve McQueen might be there. I can't remember. I get confused at this point. Too much drink. I'm sure Karl Malden is lurking in the background, gazing at me longingly. I am kind to him because his mother is dying. ~ Emma Forrest

Iain MacGregor," she whispered longingly, looking up. The woods were quiet. Strips of moonlight shone through tree limbs that reached like surreal black fingertips across her vision. A single tear slid down her cheek. She touched her mouth, imagining his kiss.
Taking a small pocket knife out of her cargo pants, she looked about. A mystic had once told her that if she left pieces of herself around while she lived, it would expand her haunting territory when she died. Jane wasn't sure she believed in sideshow magic tricks - or the Old Magick as the mystic had spelled it on her sign. She had no idea what had possessed her to talk to the palm reader and ask about ghosts. Still, just in case, she was leaving her stamp all over the woods.
She cut her palm and pressed it to a nearby tree under a branch. Holding the wound to the rough bark stung at first, but then it made her feel better. This forest wouldn't be a bad eternity.
The sound of running feet erupted behind her and she stiffened. No one ever came out here at night. She'd walked the woods hundreds of times. Her mind instantly went to the creepy girl ghosts chanting by the stream.
"Whoohoo!"
Jane whipped around, startled as a streak of naked flesh sprinted past her. The Scottish voice was met with loud cheers from those who followed him. "Water's this way, lads, or my name isn't Raibeart MacGregor, King of the Highlands!"
Another naked man dashed through the forest after him. "It smells of freed ~ Michelle M. Pillow

Oh, I wish I lived in a caravan!' said Jimmy longingly. 'How lovely it must be to live in a house that has wheels and can go away down the lanes and through the towns, and stand still in fields at night! ~ Enid Blyton

Denny gave me a strange look when I showed up in the band room, but I have always believed playing drums is no excuse not to look cute. Besides, if McDaniel shows up, I want to look my best. Oh, crap, I should be paying attention.
"Did you hear anything I said?"
I answer honestly, "No."
Denny runs a hand through his spiked hair and asks, "Do you really want to learn how to march?"
"I have to learn to march if I want to be a part of the section, right?"
"Right."
"Then, it doesn't really matter if I want to do anything. It's something I have to do."
Denny looks confused and partially like he's completely regretting the decision to add me to his section, but proceeds to teach me drill for the better part of two hours. While we run through the steps, I look longingly over at my quints, which I have secretly decided to name Quincy. ~ Courtney Brandt

Isn't he beautiful? Hadley says longingly.
Yes, I think, but not in the way she obviously sees him. He's beautiful in the way the apple in the banned book my father read to me ages ago was beautiful to the princess.
Tempting but deadly. ~ Trisha Wolfe

Can't handle your alcohol, Mira?" Blue called over.
"I didn't expect it to go everywhere! Now I smell like beer."
"It could be worse," Blue said. "You could smell like Rafe's sex life, like Caspian does." Poor Caspian was huddled in the blanket, staring longingly out to sea, oblivious to their conversation.
"That was low," Freddie said, hiding a grin. ~ Sarah Cross

If you fall for a dark-eyed beauty, pretty as a picture, with lips as sweet as a luscious rasberry, and a gentle face, unrumpled by kisses, like an apple-blossom petal in May, and she becomes your love - then do not say that love is yours: even though you cannot tire of her rounded breasts, of her slender frame that melts in your embrace like wax before a flame. . . . The day will come, that cruel hour will come, the fatal moment will come, when he face will fade, rumpled by kisses, her breasts will no longer quiver at your touch: all this will come to pass; and you will be alone with your own shadow amidst the sunscorched deserts and the dried up springs, where flowers do not bloom and the sunlight plays on the dry skin of a lizard; and you might even see the hairy black tarantula's lair, all enmeshed in the threads of its web . . . And then your thirsting voice will be raised from the sands, calling longingly to your homeland.
---
But if your love is otherwise, if her browless face has once been touched by the black blemish of the pox, if her hair is red, her breasts sagging, her bare feet dirty, and to any extent at all her stomach protrudes, and still she is your love - then that which you have sought and found in her is the sacred homeland of your soul. ~ Andrei Bely

The river asked me who I was to be gazing so longingly into her curving body of cascading dreams and shifting beauty. ~ Todd Crawshaw

We hold hands together delicately and sublimely and look longingly into each other's eyes. ~ Avijeet Das

Selkie women are the women you don't understand. They are the women who know that they belong to another tribe, in another element. And so they seem as though they don't belong in yours – and they don't. They are the women who live by other rules and values, because their rules and values are different from those of this world. They are the women who sometimes seem to be listening to other voices, or music you can't hear, or the call of distant bells. There is a faraway look in their eyes.

Selkie women are the ones who look as though they came out of faerytales, because they did. The ones who look at the sea longingly, who look at the sky as their home. They do not fear death. They only fear imprisonment.

Selkie women are the ones you can't keep. ~ Theodora Goss

Are you two done staring longingly in each other's eyes or should we just take a break?"
Now scowling, Dee turned her head and focused on the only idiot really taking the game seriously.
Mitch took a step back, grabbing his brother and yanking him in front of his body. "Take him, Dee. Take him!"
"You bastard!" Brendon yelped. ~ Shelly Laurenston

In another couple of hours we can go on board."
He looked longingly at the lighted ship, ready for her start at dawn. She looked so clean, so nice, so British…
Mr. Low came to stand beside him. "Decent bunks, decent food, people speaking English. You can't believe it."
But in spite of the relief of being on the way home, the crows were broken men. Mr. Low was still feverish, Mr. Trapwood's insect bites had spread in an infected mass over his face and neck, and neither of them could keep down their food. ~ Eva Ibbotson

Here is something that Peach, one of the Casserole Queens, says about men and women and love. You know that scene in Romeo and Juliet, where Romeo is standing on the ground looking longingly at Juliet on the balcony above him? One of the most romantic moments in all of literary history? Peach says there's no way that Romeo was standing down there to profess his undying devotion. The truth, Peach says, is that Romeo was just trying to look up Juliet's skirt. ~ Deb Caletti

For me, it's always a little sad getting out of bed. Every morning after I get up, I always gaze longingly at my bed and lament, 'You were wonderful last night. I didn't want it to end. I can't wait to see you again. ~ Jim Gaffigan

Sometimes without conscious realization, our thoughts, our faith, out interests are entered into the past. We talk about other times, other places, other persons, and lose our living hold on the present. Sometimes we think if we could just go back in time we would be happy. But anyone who attempts to reenter the past is sure to be disappointed. Anyone who has ever revisited the place of his birth after years of absence is shocked by the differences between the way the place actually is, and the way he has remembered it. He may walk along old familiar streets and roads, but he is a stranger in a strange land. He has thought of this place as home, but he finds he is no longer here even in spirit. He has gone onto a new and different life, and in thinking longingly of the past, he has been giving thought and interest to something that no longer really exists. ~ James McBride

Why did she give up wine for Lent? Polly was more sensible. She had given up strawberry jam. Cecilia had never seen Polly show more than a passing interest in strawberry jam, although now, of course, she was always catching her standing at the open fridge, staring at it longingly. The power of denial. ~ Liane Moriarty

Oh, man,' Beck breathed. 'Check out the car.' It was white with a black top. The hood looked as as long as a football field. 'Sure is big,' was all I could manage to say. Beck gazed longingly at the beast, his eyes glowing in appreciation. 'You know what that is?'
'Uh, no. Should I?'
'It's a fully restored, two-door 1973 Monte Carlo. Muscle car, big time.'
'Bet it's hard to park. ~ Marilee Brothers

Where Pan protects them. In the cool, wet places Of bushy clefts, nature's nymphs live hidden, 9880 The crowding trees reach upwards with their branches Longingly, after a higher region. ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

No alien land in all the world has any deep strong charm for me but one, no other land could so longingly and so beseechingly haunt me, sleeping and waking, through half a lifetime, as that one has done. Other things leave me, but it abides me; other things change, but it remains the same. For me its balmy airs are always blowing, its summer seas flashing in the sun; the pulsing of it surfbeat is in my ear; I can see its garland crags, its leaping cascades, its plumy palms drowsing by the shore, its remote summits floating like islands above the cloud wrack; I can feel the woodland solitudes, I can hear the splash of its brooks; in my nostrils still lives the breath of flowers that perished twenty years ago.
-MARK TWAIN in an 1889 Dinner Speech at Delmonico's in New York to honor two baseball teams that had just returned from touring the Pacific, including Honolulu. ~ John Richard Stephens

Gradually too, Trotta's disappointment was replaced by a sweet melancholy. He made a pact with his sadness. Everything in the world was as sad as it could be, and at the very heart of this wretched world was the Lieutenant. It was for him that the frogs were bruiting so piteously tonight, and the pain-filled crickets were waiting on his behalf. It was for him that the spring night was filled with such a sweet and easy sadness, for him that the stars were positioned so unattainably high in the sky, and it was to him alone that their light blinked so longingly and vainly. The unending pain of the world fitted itself to Trotta's hurt. ~ Joseph Roth

Neoteny is more than retaining a youthful appearance, although that is often part of it. Neoteny is the retention of all those wonderful qualities that we associate with youth: curiosity, playfulness, eagerness, fearlessness, warmth, energy. Unlike those defeated by time and age, our geezers have remained much like our geeks – open, willing to take risks, hungry for knowledge and experience, courageous, eager to see what the new day brings. Time and lost steal the zest from the unlucky, and leave them looking longingly at the past. Neoteny is a metaphor for the quality – and the gift – that keeps the fortunate of whatever age focused on all marvelous undiscovered things to come. ~ Warren G. Bennis

Though amid all the smoking horror and diabolism of a sea-fight, sharks will be seen longingly gazing up to the ship's decks, like hungry dogs round a table where red meat is being carved, ready to bolt down every killed man that is tossed to them. ~ Herman Melville

And then I see it. Azure Helicopter Tours.
I drag Toraf to the landing pad. "What is that?" he asks suspiciously.
"Um. It's a helicopter."
"What does it do? Triton's trident, it doesn't fly does it? Emma? Emma wait!"
He catches up to me and burps right in my ear. "Stop being a jerkface," I tell him.
"Whatever that is. You don't care about me at all, do you?"
"You came to me, remember? This is me helping you. Now be quiet while I buy tickets." It's a private ride, no other passengers to worry about. Plus, we're not stealing anything. The helicopter can return to land with its pilot as soon as we're done with our part of the mission.
"Why do we need to fly? The water is right there." He points to it longingly. I almost feel bad for him. Almost. But I don't have time for pity.
"Because I think these helicopters can still cover more distance faster than you can haul me. I'm trying to make up for all the time we spent at security in LAX."
"Humans are so weird," he mutters again as I walk away. "You do everything backward."
Since this is a sightseeing flight, the pilot, Dan, a thick Hawaiian man with an even thicker accent, takes his time pointing out all the usual tourist stuff, like the fishing industry, the history of the coast, and other things I have no interest in at the moment. The view of the blue water and visible reefs, the chain of islands, and the rich culture would be breathtaking if I weren't preoccupied with crashing ~ Anna Banks

Lasting love is more a matter of learning to look outward at the world together than looking longingly eye-to-eye. Love Conditionally. Healthy, lasting love is conditional, not unconditional. No one, including you, is love-worthy if she or he does not behave lovingly. Love is something you earn, not something you deserve. Worry more about being love-worthy than about your own self-worth. ~ Paul Pearsall

We keep making decisions, every day, half without thinking, half against our will. If we don't fight back, if we allow ourselves to change, to be changed, then once it's done we have to do other things, and on and on until the person we wanted to be is so far away in the past that we only remember her, longingly, as if she were a beloved stranger. ~ Rona Jaffe

He looked longingly out the window at the towering skyline of New York City and thought about jumping. It would hurt less than following orders. ~ Kelly Moran

Hi again !
My fav quote from "Kisses from Katie " By Katie J Davis frm page 174

As an 8 year old ,when I first started hearing Céline Dion's songs, I did not realize that she was almost always singing about someone she is sooooo desperately in love with ! She has such longing and such agony as she is away from her lover .But now a I feel so much longing for my boyfriend whom Im losing .I see a lesson in this : I think the way Celine Dion feels about her lover is the way God must feel about the church ,which in some ways seems to have strayed so far from Him .
I think God allowed me to REALLY MISS my boyfriend so I could catch a tiny glimpse of what God's heart must feel as the church strays into religion and away from things that are so important to Him like helping the impoverished, unwanted people of the world . He longs and desires for my heart to come back to Him each and every minute of each and every day .
God so deeply ,passionately , desperately loves us . He intensely longs for his lover to come back to his teachings of giving all we a have to Him ,our beloved , who lives in the hearts of the suffering poor people of this world and unite as a community in an effort to serve HIM in Them and I am so awed by his love for me .I feel so precious and dear to him that He is singing to me even more longingly and passionately than Celine Dion sings to her lover. That is pretty WONDERFUL !!!
Satan is not a fan of God our love affair with God an ~ Katie Davis

I was ashamed by my vulnerability. Nergal had really broken me. I tried so hard to stay strong, but my body couldn't handle my determination. Eventually, I gave in to what I thought was my ultimate demise. Although my body was still weak, one look at my savior refreshed my will to live, to be strong. I looked longingly into the depths of his eyes, trying to convey my love for him, but there was no way to show how my heart beat just for him. He wasn't my soul mate, he was my soul. ~ L.J. Kentowski