Quotes about yearned (10 Quotes)


    Jacob was hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Edward's, yearned to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm, waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort. Edward's shielding arms had become restraints.


    He carried Paul inside and up the stairs. He gave him a drink of water and the orange chewable aspirin he like and sat with him on the bed, holding his hand...This was what he yearned to capture on film: these rare moments where the world seemed unified, coherent, everything contained in a single fleeting image. A spareness that held beauty and hope and motion - a kind of silvery poetry, just as the body was poetry in blood and flesh and bone.

    No more shall ye behold such sights of woe, deeds I have suffered and myself have wrought henceforward quenched in darkness shall ye see those ye should ne'er have seen now blind to those whom, when I saw, I vainly yearned to know.



    A story is told that Whistler once painted a tiny picture of a spray of roses. The artistry involved in the picture was magnificent. Never before, it seemed, had the art of man been able to execute quite so deftly a reproduction of the art of nature. The picture was the envy of the artists who saw it, the despair of the collectors who yearned to buy it. But Whistler refused steadfastly to sell it. 'For,' he said, 'whenever I feel that my hand has lost its cunning, whenever I doubt my ability, I look at the little picture of the spray of roses, and say to myself, Whistler, you painted that. Your hand drew it. Your imagination conceived the colors. Your skill put the roses on the canvas. Then, said he, 'I know that what I have done, I can do again'

    She bowed her head, clasping her hands tightly before her upon the arm of his chair, for her heart yearned towards him, yet could not reach him, and it made her throat ache with unhappiness to meet that look of his that rested on her face without seeing it.

    I was wan and weary with life ; my sick soul yearned for death;
    I was weary of women and war and the sea and the wind's wild breath;
    I cull'd sweet poppies and crush'd them, the blood ran rich and red:--
    And I cast it in crystal chalice and drank of it till I was dead.

    The Jews, my beloved, awaited the coming of a Messiah, who had been promised them, and who was to deliver them from bondage. And the Great Soul of the World sensed that the worship of Jupiter and Minerva no longer availed, for the thirsty hearts of men could not be quenched with that wine. In Rome men pondered the divinity of Apollo, a god without pity, and beauty of Venus already fallen into decay. For deep in their hearts, though they did not understand it, these nations hungered and thirsted for the supreme teaching that would transcend any to be found on the earth. They yearned for the spirits freedom that would teach man to rejoice with his neighbor at the light of the sun and the wonder of living. For it is this cherished freedom that brings man close to the Unseen, which he can approach without fear or shame.




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