#longing

But in spite of my great desire for intimacy, I've always been a loner. Perhaps when the longing for connection is as strong as it is in me, when the desire is for something so deep and true, one knows better than to try. One sees that this is not the place for that. ↗

— Elizabeth Berg

#loneliness #longing #change

Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path. ↗

— Brené Brown

#authenticity #belonging #courage #creativity #empathy

it occurs to me that there is so much I never knew about him--his past, his role in the resistance, what his life was like in the Wilds, before he came to Portland, and I feel a flash of grief so intense it almost makes me cry out: not for what I lost, but for the chances I missed. ↗

— Lauren Oliver

#chances #lena #longing-for-death #requiem #death

When i write, i'm capable of having a girl of my dreams. She may not be perfect, but she's mine. And i'm her role model for God. ↗

— Ariel Seraphino

#girl-of-my-dreams #god #relationships #writing #dreams

Through our maps, we willingly become a part of their boundaries. If our home is included, we feel pride, perhaps familiarity, but always a sense that this is ours. If it is not, we accept our roles as outsiders, though we may be of the same mind and culture. In this way, maps can be dangerous and powerful tools. ↗

— Debbie Lee Wesselmann

#home #inspirational #maps #home

He was in my hair, my eyes, my fingers, my heart. I day-dreamed about what he was doing, thinking, seeing, smelling, feeling. I could not eat for thoughts of him. ↗

— Lisa See

#love #dreams

But she had dreamed of being his for too long. He had quite ruined her for a marriage of convenience. She wanted everything from him: his mind, his body, his name and, most of all, his heart. ↗

— Sarah MacLean

#love #dreams

Laine slowly rolled out of bed. The queen size was one of the few new things in the house. But now, even the new bed felt tainted. It was an inner-spring monument to lies, a petri dish of mendacity she had shared with her faithless husband, and shared now with creeping dreams that flew from the light but left harsh scratches and diseased black feathers. Laine promised herself that, as soon as, she could, she would rid herself of this house, this bed, her clothes, her jewelry - everything but the flesh she lived in. She would scrub herself clean and flee to start a new life whose first and only commandment would be: Never let thyself be lied to again. ↗

— Stephen M. Irwin

#betrayal #emotions #escaping #longing #loss

In fact her maturity and blood kinship converted her passion to fever, so it was more affliction than affection. It literally knocked her down at night, and raised her up in the morning, for when she dragged herself off to bed, having spent another day without his presence, her heart beat like a gloved fist against her ribs. And in the morning, long before she was fully awake, she felt a longing so bitter and tight it yanked her out of a sleep swept clean of dreams. ↗

— Toni Morrison

#longing #dreams

terucap rindu sepasang insan.. geliat sang cinta di lubuk hati.. terurai kata nan indah menawan.. gundah pun sirna dibuai si mimpi. ↗

— Toba Beta

#longing #love #poem #dreams