#longing

God too longs; and because the Absolute Life itself, which dwells in our life, and inspires these very longings, possesses the true world, and is that world. ↗

— Josiah Royce

#because #dwells #god #inspires #itself

Si pudiera descubrir porqué se encasillan, podría averiguar por qué yo no lo hago, por qué me he convertido en una chica invisible. El tipo de chica que tiene unos cuantos amigos y un montón de conocidos, pero no pertenece a nada en concreto. Supongo que ser invisible es mejor que fingir formar parte de algo; pero no te hace sentir menos solo. ↗

— Jackson Pearce

#inspirational #inspirational

She didn't belong anywhere and she never really belonged to anyone. And everyone else belonged somewhere and to someone. People thought she was too wonderful. But she only wanted to belong to someone. People always thought she was too wonderful to belong to them or that something too wonderful would hurt too much to lose. And that's why she liked him-- because he just thought she was crazy. ↗

— C. JoyBell C.

#belonging-to-someone #boy-meets-girl #craziness #crazy #heartwarming

At this late hour a wagon has been procured, and I have had it filled with plate and the most valuable portable articles, belonging to the house. ↗

— Dolley Madison

#been #belonging #filled #had #hour

I couldn't take my eyes off him. Like a desert wanderer afraid of mirages, I gazed at my oasis, but he was real. ↗

— Laura Whitcomb

#love #love

Do you think that the people of South Africa, or anywhere on the continent of Africa, or India, or Pakistan are longing to be kicked around all over again? ↗

— Arundhati Roy

#again #anywhere #around #continent #india

Here You always belonged here. You were theirs, certain as a rock. I’m the one who worries if I fit in with the furniture and the landscape. But I “follow too much the devices and desires of my own heart.” Already the curves in the road are familiar to me, and the mountain in all kinds of light, treating all people the same. and when I come over the hill, I see the house, with its generous and firm proportions, smoke rising gaily from the chimney. I feel my life start up again, like a cutting when it grows the first pale and tentative root hair in a glass of water. ↗

— Jane Kenyon

#home #rebirth #home

The way I miss my daughter Esme is to worry about her. It is not a pleasurable longing. It contorts my body and scrambles my brain, makes me stop breathing, clench my jaw and my fists, it makes me frown, and makes me blind and deaf, in fact entirely without sensory perception. ↗

— Olivia Williams

#blind #body #brain #breathing #daughter

I been with strangers all day and they treated me like family. I come in here to family and you treat me like a stranger. ↗

— August Wilson

#family #family

The Marquess shrugged. “I’m a shadow. I do know I am a shadow, Iago. I know most of the time. It’s only when I cannot bear how everyone looks at me down here that I make myself forget it. Shadows are the other side of yourself. I had longings to be good, even then. I was just stronger than my wanting. I’m stronger than anything, really, when I want to be.” The Marquess’s hair turned white as the snow. “Do you know, we’re right underneath Springtime Parish? This place is the opposite of springtime. Everything past prime, boarded up for the season. Just above us, the light shines golden on daffodils full of rainwine and heartgrass and a terrible, wicked, sad girl I can’t get back to. I don’t even know if I want to. Do I want to be her again? Or do I want to be free? I come here to think about that. To be near her and consider it. I think I shall never be free. I think I traded my freedom for a better story. It was a better story, even if the ending needed work. ↗

— Catherynne M. Valente

#freedom #indecision #longings #shadows #wants