Missing Quotes

“I wish I could be with you all,' I responded, getting all worked up myself over someone I had almost entirely stopped thinking about. Time makes us sentimental. Perhaps, in the end, it is because of time that we suffer.”
― André Aciman, Call Me by Your Name

“They way I walk now
you’d have a hard time recognising me,
on these streets
where I once imagined walking with you.
Hand in hand,
like we always did,
and it never mattered where we were going
because it was all just fine.
I was always fine.
But they rest restlessly in my pockets now,
in a new town,
on these new streets,
and it’s heavy to stay standing
for my body is half the size
when you’re gone
and these buildings are tall and old and beautiful
and I wonder what secrets they hold.
How to stand so proud after so many years
because I’m still young but I feel worn
and I get through the days on too much caffeine and mood altering chemicals
to stay awake long enough to make the poetry come alive.
I fall asleep on the floor with the music still playing
when my neighbour leaves for the office
and I’m jealous.
I wonder what it’s like to go outside and know where to go,
know where you want to end up
and just simply go there.
I’ve been making lists of things I want to do,
where to go
and who to be,
now that you’re gone,
and it’s nice and all,
it’s just …
I’d rather write it with you,
and go there with you.
Be things
with you.

There were days when I still put on make up
in case you’d come back,
but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain,
eat when I can and sleep when I can,
which is rare and not often,
so if you’d see me now
on these streets
where I once imagined walking with you
you’d have a hard time recognising me.

It takes a lot to run away.”
― Charlotte Eriksson, Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving

“I'm looking at all this and I'm thinking that one day I won't be here to see it and I know I'll miss it, even if I won't have a heartbeat to miss anything. I miss it now for the-days-when, the way I miss places I've never traveled to or things I've never done." "What things have you never done?" "You're young and you're very handsome—how could you possibly understand?" He removed his arm. He lived in a future that wouldn't be his to live in and longed for a past that hadn't been his either. There was no turning back and no going forward. I felt for him.”
― André Aciman, Enigma Variations

“What if my body—just my body, my heart—cried out for his? What to do then?

What if at night I wouldn't be able to live with myself unless I had him by me, inside me? What then?”
― André Aciman, Call Me by Your Name

“Words never mean a thing if you don't know the lack of them,
or sounds,
or laughter,
and it's the small moments of silence I value the most.”
― Charlotte Eriksson, You're Doing Just Fine

“I will be waiting for you at the end of every blind alley, under the lonely streetlamps of a city that will no longer be ours.
When the wind grows colder and the huge piles of settled leaves sit there for a week or two, unshielded from the curious gaze of passersby, I will be waiting for you.
I will be waiting for what could have been and for what will never be;
For the letters that never arrived, the letters that were never sent, and the letters that will never be written.”
― Malak El Halabi

“The wind took me away from you,
Draped with fear, waking nightmare,
I lost all sense of who I could become,
Your exuberant hold slipped away,
Irresolute, impulsive, irreconcilable.”
― Phen Weston, Nothing But The Rain: A Collection of Poems

“أنّك أتٍ من هناك

ما بين موجةِ تسامر خصري وموجةٍ تلّفني
وشمس حزيران البرتقالية..
دمعة تحرق خدّي وتغرقني..
لأنني لوهلةٍ تخيّل لي أنك آتٍ من هناك..
ماشياً حافياً على الماء لتلقي عليّ التحية.”
― Malak El Halabi

“I scrub my skin
to rid me from you
and I still don’t know why I cried.
It was just something in the way you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldn’t recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done. Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way, look better this way, to you and us and all the rest.
But then you must have changed your mind
or made a wrong
because why did you
leave?”
― Charlotte Eriksson, Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving

“My return was sweet, my home refound, but my thoughts were filled only with grief at having lost her, and my eyes gazed at the Moon, for ever beyond my reach, as I sought her. And I saw her. She was there where I had left her, lying on a beach directly over our heads, and she said nothing. She was the colour of the Moon; she held the harp at her side and moved one hand now and then in slow arpeggios. I could distinguish the shape of her bosom, her arms, her thighs, just as I remember them now, just as now, when the Moon has become that flat, remote circle, I still look for her as soon as the first silver appears in the sky, and the more it waxes, the more clearly I imagine I can see her, her or something of her, but only her, in a hundred, a thousand different vistas, she who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full, sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.”
― Italo Calvino, The Distance of the Moon

“He kissed me on the mouth, but it wasn't the kiss after the Pasquino, when he'd pressed me hard against the wall on via Santa Maria dell' Anima. I recognized the taste instantly. I'd never realized how much I liked it or how long I'd missed it. One more thing to log on that checklist of things I'd miss before losing him for good.”
― André Aciman, Call Me by Your Name

“The first few days, I kept checking my phone, waiting for him to reply, but slowly I understood that we were going to be part of each other's past. I still missed him, though. I missed my dad, too. And Harold. I missed everybody. To be alive is to be missing.”
― John Green, Turtles All the Way Down

“If you miss someone, let her understand that you are missing her. Love is deep in it.”
― Sajal Ahmed

“This fever of longing is not love, he thought, it is the opposite of love. It is the separation from love that burns like the fires of hell.”
― Mark Beauregard, The Whale: A Love Story

“You cannot imagine how much I miss you... The house does not feel the same. I keep feeling that you are here or thinking that I see you. I even think that I can hear you some afternoons...I go out to see... I look for you, but I can't find you. My life is not the same without you.”
― Abbas Kazerooni, On Two Feet and Wings

“I miss you in a breathless desperate sort of way.”
― N.R.Hart

“The missing missing were people who dropped off the face of the earth and kept on going, with no one in their lives who noticed, or no one in their lives who cared. When they were found dead, with no means of identification, it was almost as though they’d been born that way.”
― Joseph Knox, The Smiling Man

“she awoke often to lie and wish for that presence beside her—inanimate yet breathing—still Jeff.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tales of the Jazz Age

“Only God knows how much I missing you. When you do not talk to me, I feel like I was dumb.”
― Sajal Ahmed

“If only there was a way I could let you know
how much you mean to me, you’d never go
away so far that all I can do now, dear
is whisper a wish, that you were here.”
― Anangsha Alammyan, Stolen Reflections

“Everything comes at a cost to others, most of the time at a cost to ourselves.”
― Cecelia Ahern, A Place Called Here

“Why do bad things happen to good people? Within every bad thing I see good, and, likewise, within every good thing I see bad, however impossible it is to understand it or see it at the time.”
― Cecelia Ahern, A Place Called Here

“When I could look beyond the external beauty.....I found immense ental love in the world”
― Anshu Pal, My Experiments with Love: A collection of Poems

“Spread love every where
every city town street
It is an eternal feeling
Not at all a topic of discreet”
― Anshu Pal, My Experiments with Love: A collection of Poems

“My loneliness taught me a thing which is too appreciable! The people for whom we think that they can help us while we need them, they just kicked a rough comment over the situation and say "Sorry".”
― Raj Kumar Kochitani

“At that, the old hag flew into such a rage she burst into pieces on the spot, and the princess with the long nose did the same right after her, and the whole pack of trolls right after that. At least I haven't heard a word about them since.”
― Maria Tatar, Beauty and the Beast: Classic Tales About Animal Brides and Grooms from Around the World

“Who did she expect to pick her up? A name had been on her lips. Someone she missed terribly, so much so that the physical longing stabbed at her chest and made her grab it, but there was no knife to pull out. It was invisible but real, and the blade was grinding deeper into her as she realised that she didn’t know who she was missing. There was no knight in shining armour to collect her, or if there was, she didn’t know who he was.”
― Pamela Harju, A World Other Than Her Own

“I felt he didn't need much warmth from anybody. His own 37.5º C were sufficient for him. His spirit slept alone.
I thought about how, after Ben and I made love he'd turn his body away from me. His naked back would face me. Even though our bodies were just two or three centimeters apart, I couldn't bear that distance. I felt abandoned and sometimes, in the dark, I couldn't help myself, I missed Xiaolin. I missed nights with Xiaolin.”
― Xiaolu Guo, Twenty Fragments of a Ravenous Youth

“When you asked me, breathless, breathing the same air I was breathing, 'And what now?' I didn't know what to to say. Three months later and I still don't know the answer. I've been a nomad my whole life. I've crossed half the world, from Chicago to Palestine, Iceland to the Sahara, and I've never known what name to give this anxious wandering. Now I know that I was looking for you. I know now that you are my destiny, my country, my church. I know that it became December when I left Luanda, and that ever since then Winter has been prowling like a ravenous wolf all around me.”
― José Eduardo Agualusa, Nação Crioula

“Missing you in my skin today. The heart gave up long ago.”
― Nitya Prakash