Warren G. Harding Quotes

My love is as a fever, longing still.

Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.

Tell me anything. Tell me everything. Revoke our time apart. Love me fierce in danger.

Dearest - my body is simply crazy with wanting you - If you don't come tomorrow - I don't see how I can wait for you - I wonder if your body wants mine the way mine wants yours - the kisses - the hotness - the wetness - all melting together - the being held so tight that it hurts - the strangle and the struggle.

Love in the form of longing and deprivation lowers the self regard.

My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when I slept so soft against her... It's never over, All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter... It's never over, She's a tear that hangs inside my soul forever.

You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour.

It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.

And if kisses in these words could travel too, Madam, you'd read this letter with your lips.

If love is a yearning to be like (even to become) the beloved, then hatred, it must be said, can be engendered by the same ambition, when it cannot be fulfilled.

Each night I lie and dream about the one Who kissed me and awakened my desire I spent a single hour with him alone And since that hour, my days are layed with fire.

I love you, Daisy. I love you so much I hurt.

Oh Alexander," she said, "what do you want from me..." "Everything!" he whispered fiercely.

Longing, it may be, is the gift no other gift supplies.

And yet shall Love himself be heard,Though long deferred, though long deferred:O'er the modern waste a dove hath whirred:Music is Love in search of a word.

I wanted to bring Lissa back, and I wanted to return to Adrian's arms again, return to his lips and all this life... "Hathaway! Good God, do I have to hose you down?

I can't do this Ash. It's killing me. Having you this close and not touching you is driving me insane. You're his Ash. You're his. You made your choice and I understand why you chose him. I don't hold it against you but dammit Ash it hurts

When soul rises Into lips You feel the kiss You have wanted

My chest ached, my body speaking a language my head didn't quite understand. I waited. But Grace, the only person in the world I wanted to know me, just ran a wanting finger over the cover of one of the new hardcovers and walked out of the store without ever realising I was there, right within reach.

You are pure flame. I touch you and I ignite. I kiss you and I burn to have more. You consume me… like no other woman before you, and, I am certain, like no other ever could again.

I ache for the touch of your lips dear, but much more for the touch of your whips dear.

He stops, looks up at this window, and I can see the white oblong of his face. We look at each other. I have no rose to toss, he has no lute. But it's the same kind of hunger.

There's a somebody I'm longing to see, I hope that he, turns out to be, someone to watch over me.

Moon, moon, when you leave me alone all the darkness is an utter blackness, a pit of fear, a stench, hands unreasonable never to touch. But I love you. Do you love me. What to say when you see me.

Some people speak and sing and walk and sit and sleep and silence their homesickness, for a long time, and to no avail. Some say that over time homesickness loses its specific content, that it starts to smolder and only then becomes all-consuming, because it’s no longer focused on a concrete home. I am one of the people who say that.