Sadness Quotes - Page 8

Love can't be limited

Tears of missing you raced down my cheeks; please don't go, your arms are my tears of joy

. . . owning a dog always ended with this sadness because dogs just don't live as long as people do.

La tristesse durera toujours.
[The sadness will last forever.]

It would be wrong to refuse to face the fact that everything is fundamentally sick and sad.

I waited for dawn, but only because I had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second I'd be normal. Then came the dim awareness of something off, out of place. Then the truth came crashing down and that was it for the rest of the day. Sunlight was reproof. Shouldn't I feel better than I had in the dead of night.

Your coffin reached the monstrous hole. And a part of me went down into the muddy earth with you and lay down next to you and died with you.

No matter how much he talked, she never answered him, but he knew she was still there. He knew it was like the soldiers he had read about. They would have an arm or a leg blown off, and for days, even weeks after it happened, they could still feel the arm itching, the leg itching, the mother calling.

I wish the night would end,
I wish the day'd begin,
I wish it would rain or snow,
or the wind would blow,
or the grass would grow,
I wish I had yesterday,
I wish there were games to play...

He wipes tears off my face and then snot. He uses his hands. He loves me that much.

A tragedy need not have blood and death; it's enough that it all be filled with that majestic sadness that is the pleasure of tragedy.

Death! Strange that there should be such a word, and such a thing, and we ever forget it; that one should be living, warm and beautiful, full of hopes, desires and wants, one day, and the next be gone, utterly gone, and forever!

Not easy to state the change you made.
If I'm alive now, I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered by it.

A flower bloomed already wilting. Beginning its life with an early ending.

Of all the miracles Po had seen in the time and space of its death, Po thought this-the absorption of another, the carrying of it-was the most bewildering and remarkable of all. Whenever Bundle separated again, Po was left with an ache of sadness that reminded the ghost of the body it had left behind.

The times that were most fun seemed always to be followed by sadness now, because it was when life started to feel like it did when she was with us that we realized how utterly gone she was.

He did not know that the Old One was his father, for such a relationship was utterly beyond his understanding, but as he looked at the emaciated body he felt a dim disquiet that was the ancestor of sadness.

How am I going to tell the kids? How do I tell the man that I love, the man that I swore I’d grow old with that we won’t have that happy ending that he and I have worked so hard for? How do I say goodbye to all of you? How do I let go?

Clearly God was in some kind of mood on my birthday.

Here is a minute. It may be my love is dead, but here is a minute to kneel over the grave and pray by it.