I can't imagine a home without an overflow of books. The point of books is to have way too many but to always feel you never have enough, or the right one at the right moment, but then sometimes to find you'd longed to fall asleep reading the Aspern Papers, and there it is.
It never really felt like I had a lot of substance in my life. I had broken up with my former husband (Ron Samuels) and I kind of looked around. I didn't have a lot of friends. I had become isolated by fame. I longed for a family and some substantive relationships. Fame is a vapor. You can't grab hold of it.
He had also the reputation of being a bit of a lady killer. But that probably accrued to him from his possession of a laughing, velvety voice which no girl could hear without a heartbeat, and a dangerous way of listening as if she were saying something that he had longed all his life to hear.
Information helps you to see that you're not alone. That there's somebody in Mississippi and somebody in Tokyo who have wept, who've all longed and lost, who've all been happy. So the library helps you to see, not only that you are not alone, but that you're not really any different from everyone else.
I am living in the Africa I have always longed for, always felt stirring in my blood.
I longed to return to that bloody riverbank, to throw myself in the path of the final arrow, to die ignorant, and so, in love. Better to be killed by an arrow than by the words of the one I most trusted.
How I longed to see these things; how I longed to see the Liberty Bell and walk on the streets where Thomas Jefferson, Tom Paine and Benjamin Franklin had walked.
I’ve longed for kids since I was very, very young.
Often I have thought of the day when I gazed for the first time at the sea. The sea is vast, the sea is wide, my eyes roved far and wide and longed to be free. But there was the horizon. Why a horizon, when I wanted the infinite from life?
I cannot remember the time when I have not longed for death. . . . for years and years I used to watch for death as no sick man ever watched for the morning.
From childhood I had never believed in permanence, and yet I had longed for it. Always I was afraid of losing happiness. This month, next year. . . death was the only absolute value in my world. Lose life and one would lose nothing again forever.
There is no need for me to curse you -the murderer survives the victim only to learn that it was himself that he longed to be rid of. Hatred is self-hatred.
All my life I have longed to have a loving relationship that would last a lifetime.
Just one look and then I knew that all I longed for long ago was you
Keats longed for fame, but longed above all to deserve it.
Yet there were times when he did love her with all the kindness she demanded, and how was she to know what were those times? Alone she raged against his cheerfulness and put herself at the mercy of her own love and longed to be free of it because it made her less than he and dependent on him. But how could she be free of chains she had put upon herself? Her soul was all tempest. The dreams she had once had of her life were dead. She was in prison in the house. And yet who was her jailer except herself?
I longed to be a writer, always wanted to be a writer.
Underneath it all, you longed to be annihilated by love.
Few have wished for memory so much as they have longed for forgetfulness.
Let him who has once perceived how much that, which has been discarded, excels that which he has longed for, return at once, and seek again that which he despised.