Richelle Mead Quotes

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain. I love you still among these cold things. Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels that cross the sea towards no arrival. I see myself forgotten like those old anchors. The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there. My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose. I love what I do not have. You are so far. My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights. But night comes and starts to sing to me.

I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it.

My entire soul is a cry, and all my work is a commentary on that cry.

Love and despair go hand in hand.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, It's not warm when she's away, Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, And she's always gone too long, Anytime she goes away.

Everything disturbs an absent lover.

For Beatrice, summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you, is even colder.

As the presence of those we love is as a double life, so absence, in its anxious longing and sense of vacancy, is as a foretaste of death.

Everything you do makes my body scream with loneliness.

Authors and lovers always suffer some infatuation, from which only absence can set them free.

No pain could match the emptiness of separation, no agony rivaled the unreality of not being with her.

I think living with the absence of someone we love is like living in front of a mountain from which a person - a speck in the distance, on some distance ridge - is perpetually waving.

There is one pain, I often feel, which you will never know. It's caused by the absence of you.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it sure makes the rest of you lonely.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart.

so I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.

Separation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

All shall love me and despair.

Our hours in love have wings; in absence, crutches.

There is only one thing I want. I would like to be seriously ill, and to hear nothing more about him for at least a week. Why doesn't something happen to me? Why do I have to go through all this? If only I had never set eyes on him!

Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate; all that was once so beautiful is dead.

I am tired, beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little ink drops, and posting it. And I scald alone, here, under the fire of the great moon.

An' this house just ain't no home, Anytime she goes away.

Being away from the game took a toll on my heart.