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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #longing
I introduced Nora as my wife, though that was a lie. Old people, that's what they wanted to hear. If you were married, you were mature, reliable, exactly like them, because in their day men and women didn't just live together--they made a commitment, they had children and went on cruises and built big houses on lakes and filled them with all the precious trinkets and manufactured artifacts they'd collected along the way. ↗
I missed the sound of her shuffling her homework while I listened to music on her bed. I missed the cold of her feet against my legs when she climbed into bed. I missed the shape of her shadow where it fell across the page of my book. I missed the smell of her hair and the sound of her breath and my Rilke on her nightstand and her wet towel thrown over the back of her desk chair. It felt like I should be sated after having a whole day with her, but it just made me miss her more. ↗
Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone, and the only one who seeks out another. His nature - if that word can be used in reference to man, who has ‘invented’ himself by saying ‘no’ to nature - consists in his longing to realize himself in another. Man is nostalgia and a search for communion. Therefore, when he is aware of himself he is aware of his lack of another, that is, of his solitude. ↗
...But the heart is not a computer that can be upgraded so quickly and easily with the latest version of love. Love cannot be sealed hermetically inside a tight box like any other on the store shelf; even though the word itself is in public domain, its quality is not. Love cannot promise a full customer satisfaction garanteed or a whole lifetime of dreams shared refunded, with no questions asked. Love cannot be agreed to in terms and conditions as quickly as the "Next" button being clicked. These unspoken terms and conditions grow and develop over time until it gets very messy, and no one remembers how such a mess of accusation and anger was able to overshadow their pure ecstasy of love, the spark between two people turning on a new operation system of togetherness for the first time. Love is always beta; never a golden master. If love were a computer, constant bug reports and subsequent fixes are the name of the game, and there are many unexplained breakdowns. The heart is too stubborn for explanations and too impatient for forgiveness, and there is usually no one at the tech support line. Forgive me stan, if I've crashed so often. It's just to hard to boot up to a whole new future without you. I am an empty monitor in search of a "hello. ↗
The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are. ↗
That growing seed of self-doubt that you’re just not good enough and everyone else is making a mockery of your anguish by celebrating without you (or so it seems)… An oh so familiar feeling. Neighborhood games, cliques, exercise, travel, writers’ groups, bridal showers, parties, gatherings and many others that has everyone wrapped up in each other’s “sense of belonging”. But you forget that you are, and have been in groups with as few members as two, which inadvertently and even deliberately excluded some and crushed egos like yours. It’s a self perpetuating thought that stings like hundreds of paper cuts when you feel like an outsider. You’re going to be fine—you know how this goes, the conflicted emotions that come with being left out to dry and somehow, albeit excruciatingly slow at first, you manage to navigate your way back to that place where you are happy to see others enjoying themselves and even wish them well and quite sincerely. And once again, you rediscover the sheer pleasure of your own company. When you can move on from being dumped—yes, dumped—and come to terms with how everything happens for a reason and that there are no magic formulas to relationships except being your truest self and letting chips fall where they may. And that there is no such thing as ‘novelty of beginnings’ because if you let it be—yourself and others— the universe will spin just as it should and not faster than you think, whenever you’re drowning in deep trepidation and isolation. That the waning is just as intense as the waxing. The path towards darkness isn’t as short and fast as you might think. It’s when you allow fear to guide your actions that you begin the nose-dive degradation into helplessness. But just because you are here right now doesn’t mean you don’t know or can’t return to the light of healing. And just because it cannot be seen, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Believe this—remind yourself (yet again)—this place is familiar territory. And it will repeat itself in dizzying succession because you’re human and you have emotions—raw and unprocessed. You will try everything, you will fall in love over and over again. It will never be perfect. And yet you have and will survive each and every single time—smarting, scathed, shattered, maybe not wiser—but you’ve had your practice and damn me if you say you didn’t so enjoy it while it lasted. It’s alright, faith isn’t supposed to make sense (most times). It’s meant to carry you through the darkest hours when you feel stripped off, of what little strength and courage you have left. It creeps up on you and carries you forward, a step at a time until, you can believe, again. Forgive yourself, then others and move right on. Take everything the same: triumph or defeat, winning or losing, in the company of, and in your sublime aloneness, fame or shame, sadness or gladness they’re all identical just cloaked differently. And temporary. And it’s all going to pass. As if you didn’t know that too, yet. Journey on and hold that heart of yours sacred. When it breaks, it feels like it’s never going to mend but it always does, scars included. Kindness is a gift we take delight in giving others. It’s now time to unwrap it for yourself. ↗
Name me no names for my disease, With uninforming breath; I tell you I am none of these, But homesick unto death —Homesick for hills that I had known, For brooks that I had crossed, ...Before I met this flesh and bone And followed and was lost… .And though they break my heart at last, Yet name no name of ills. Say only, "Here is where he passed, Seeking again those hills. ↗
Witch Baby wanted to ask Ping how to find her Jah-Love angel. She knew Raphael was not him, even though Raphael had the right eyes and smile and name. She knew how he looked--the angel in her dream--but she didn't know how to find him. Should she roller-skate through the streets in the evenings when the streetlights flicker on? Should she stow away to Jamaica on a cruise ship and search for him in the rain forests and along the beaches? Would he come to her? Was he waiting, dreaming of her in the same way she waited and dreamed? ↗
#love #romance #unrequited #dreams
