Best 80 of Goodbyes quotes - MyQuotes
She has become so well versed in good-byes, the spoken and unspoken, the planned and unplanned, the teary ones and happy ones. Don’t be angry she begs, she surrendered and gave up long ago on anyone reading her, her life, her fears, her accomplishments, her gifts, her tears, her happy, her weird, her crazy, and all of her story. She screams I’m not the chapter titles or the end paragraph, don’t you see, I’m all the words written between.
Stay,” Pauline said. Her eyes were almost feverishly bright, and Mia wanted to rise and fold Pauline into her arms. But Pauline waved her to sit and held up her camera. “Please,” she said. “I want to take both of you.” She took a whole roll, one exposure after another, and then Mal came out with a pot of tea and a shawl for Pauline’s shoulders, and Pauline put the camera away. By the time Mia boarded the plane back to San Francisco that evening, Pearl in her arms, she had forgotten all about it. “Do what it takes,” Pauline had said to her as she had hugged her good-bye. For the first time, she had kissed Mia on the cheek. “I’m expecting great things from you.” Her use of the present tense—as if this were just an ordinary good-bye, as if she, Pauline, had every expectation of watching Mia’s career unfurl before her over decades—penned Mia’s voice in her throat. She had pulled Pauline close and breathed her in, her particular scent of lavender and eucalyptus, and turned away again before Pauline could see her cry.
They embraced in parting. There were tears in the merchant’s eyes: “I do not like parting.” “Life consists of partings,” said Arseny. “But you can rejoice more fully in companionship when you remember that.” “But I would (the merchant Vladislav blew his nose) gather up all the good people I’ve met and never let them go.” “I think then they would quickly become mean,” smiled Ambrogio. (p. 238)
Flynn -I'm glad you ruined me." Her voice stabs my heart, because I recognize that tone. I've heard it before. "Don't start with the good-byes
I do plan on saying one or two things to him when we're allowed an hour for goodbyes. To let him know how essential he's been to me all these years. How better my life has been for knowing him.
Dear heart, Stop being strong and accept that you are never happy with goodbyes.
I’d been prepared for the goodbyes—as prepared as anyone could be, I guess—but I wasn’t at all prepared for a hello.
Nobody lives forever, nobody stays young long enough. My past seemed like so much excess baggage, my future a series of long goodbyes, my present an empty flask, the last good drink already bitter on my tongue.
Goodbye," she said. When I didn't say it back, she rested her hand on the top of my head. The weight was strange and gentle. "I love you," she said. "And when I tell you goodbye, I don't mean forever or for long. Just that I'm going home now, and so are you.
There's nothing left to say. There's a million things left to say.
Also, I suppose I wanted to say goodbye to someone, and have someone say goodbye to me. The goodbyes we speak and the goodbyes we hear are the goodbyes that tell us we're still alive, after all.
It always is harder to be left behind than to be the one to go...
I have never been good at saying goodbyes to people. What else can they offer rather than a reciprocal desolation?
Another time, another place.
It takes courage to say goodbye. To stare at a thing lost and know it is gone forever. Some tears are iron forged.
We stood, holding each other's faces, memorising every last detail. I was deperate with my own need to capture this last, lingering moment, desperate to forget the horrible sink at the pit of my stomach telling me all this would be lost forever once they pulled the chip out. Please don't let me forget.
Oh, do shut up, boy. It’s not like I’ve ever been one for goodbyes.", FADE by Kailin Gow
a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand; but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon, when I don't know, if you will ever come back.
I can’t pray or weigh my words right; doomsday is here my friend, but you’re immune. We suffer for you. I’m weaving crowns of sonnets, dreads; a souvenir so you’ll never forget your friends.
People come in and out of your life. For a time they're your world; they are everything. There's no telling how long you will have them near...It's the good-byes that are hard.
Goodbyes are not for everlasting bonds. For those who are connected from beyond, their separation will not last Long.
I'll tell you, that's one thing I hate about my nickname, the way the number runs on forever. It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let it go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said, but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse. That bungled goodbye hurts me to this day.
I couldn’t make myself move from the bed. To reach for you. I’d known this moment was coming, and now that it had arrived I found I had no strength in my limbs. Only my voice. Only words. Asking you to stay.
No worries and no goodbyes, just give me a smile.
Beso tus ojos y dejo mi corazón en tus manos
Bards don’t believe in goodbyes—we know that the roads we walk are winding, and we generally tend to come back to people and places we’ve known and been before, and often at just the right time.” I smiled. “We’ll meet again.
Memories don't die, they become shelved in recesses of one's mind, resurfacing when the triggers of life re-ignite them, lighting up the heart, in a warm glow of remembrance. - "Vindication Across Time
And I’m left staring out the window, watching District 12 disappear, with all my good-byes still hanging on my lips.
saying goodbye isnt hard, but saying it to something you care about is whats hard, because you dont want to forget the emmotional pain and happiness they caused in you're life.
Which was just well: goodbyes had never been my strong suit anyway, and lately my life had felt like an unbroken series of them. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
She could have lived every minute she'd had with him better. She should have always spoken the best words she could to him.
I don't know how you say good-bye to whom and what you love. I don't know a painless way to do it, don't know the words to capture a heart so full and a longing so intense.
Good-bye." she said. "Good-bye, Park." "Good-bye, Eleanor. You know, until tonight. When you're going to call me.
It seemed so good when it started. I gave my trust to you. I came to you open-hearted, Hoping it was true. Now I've gotten smart. Now I've learned some things. Now I know that what once was a start, Is just an ending. The longest good-bye I ever knew, The longest good-bye Was the day I said hello to you.
I feel like a man standing at the mouth of an old mine-shaft that is full of cave-ins waiting to happen, standing there and saying goodbye to the daylight.
I sit on a rock and watch children playing in the park below They don't see me Or know my thoughts Or that you haven't called But I forgive them their indifference today Above me a crow caws Perhaps he smells the crumbs on my dress Or my anger But he flits away over the trees Probably has a home Probably has a wife Probably knew to call The children leave The coffee in my can turns cold The wind nips at me Some street lights flicker on But I won't move Not yet I will wait for the night to chase me Back where I came from Up the empty street To a quiet house
Singing rose up from the convent, filling the woods with a peaceful echo that tried to penetrate her heart and smooth her features; but nothing could ease the pain of saying goodbye.
Anne Morrow Lindbergh
For Sayonara, literally translated, 'Since it must be so,' of all the good-bys I have heard is the most beautiful. Unlike the Auf Wiedershens and Au revoirs, it does not try to cheat itself by any bravado 'Till we meet again,' any sedative to postpone the pain of separation. It does not evade the issue like the sturdy blinking Farewell. Farewell is a father's good-by. It is - 'Go out in the world and do well, my son.' It is encouragement and admonition. It is hope and faith. But it passes over the significance of the moment; of parting it says nothing. It hides its emotion. It says too little. While Good-by ('God be with you') and Adios say too much. They try to bridge the distance, almost to deny it. Good-by is a prayer, a ringing cry. 'You must not go - I cannot bear to have you go! But you shall not go alone, unwatched. God will be with you. God's hand will over you' and even - underneath, hidden, but it is there, incorrigible - 'I will be with you; I will watch you - always.' It is a mother's good-by. But Sayonara says neither too much nor too little. It is a simple acceptance of fact. All understanding of life lies in its limits. All emotion, smoldering, is banked up behind it. But it says nothing. It is really the unspoken good-by, the pressure of a hand, 'Sayonara.
Maybe I am everything I knew that I would never be. I looked back at Jay and smiled.
If I were married, I would be unmarried.
I've heard you say so many a time That I know just the right words to say, just the right lines to rhyme... Today it's been 7 years since we last met I have learnt to say just the wrong words, just the lines you hate....
Sometimes saying 'goodbye' may be the best thing to say to someone!
I drag the body out into the snowdrifts, as far away from our shack as I can muster. I put her in a thicket of trees, where the green seems to still have a voice in the branches, and try not to think about the beasts that’ll soon be gathering. There’s no way of burying her; the ground is a solid rock of ice beneath us. I kneel beside her and want desperately to weep. My throat tightens and my head aches. Everything hurts inside. But I have no way of releasing it. I’m locked up and hard as stone. “I’m sorry, Mamma,” I whisper to the shell in front of me. I take her hand. It could belong to a glass doll. There’s no life there anymore. So I gather rocks, one by one, and set them over her, trying my best to protect her from the birds, the beasts, keep her safe as much as I can now. I pile the dark stones gently on her stomach, her arms, and over her face, until she becomes one with the mountain. I stand and study my work, feeling like the rocks are on me instead, then I leave the body for the forest and ice.
He still had his eyes on me, and it occurred to me that he was thinking the same thing as I was; that I was very underdressed to be here. I needed to leave, and quickly. But I didn't know how to say goodbye...
Sometimes the hardest goodbyes are the ones never said, the ones that always just hang there in the back of the mind like a dark cloud. There's so much to say but no one to say it to because the person you want most to hear it is already gone. That's how he felt. Sorrow, regret, a wound so deep it didn't even bleed. Like a puncture wound, an ache that didn't heal but just hurt. He didn't know if he wanted it to heal. That'd be too much like a final goodbye.
The last day is way shorter than counting to ten.
Breathless, I gazed into his eyes. “I love you Ollie. No matter what happens, never forget that. I will always love you. You have a piece of my heart forever.” Beaming at me the tip of his nose touched mine as his forehead rested against my own. “I love you too Layla. You’ve had my heart since the moment you looked up at me from the hallway floor. You always will.
Death is easy, living difficult.
But..." I'm not ready for you to stop being my problem. "It makes more sense, Park. If you leave soon, you can still get home by dark.: "But if I leave soon..." His voice dropped. "I leave soon." "We have to say good-bye anyway." she said. "Does it matter if it's now or a few hours from now or tomorrow morning?" "Are you kidding?" he looked down at her, hoping he'd miss his turn. "Yes.
I was last. Sam walked up and held me for a long time. Finally, she whispered in my ear. She said a lot of wonderful things about how it was okay that I wasn't ready last night and how she would miss me and how she wanted me to take care of myself while she was gone. 'You're my best friend,' was all I could say in return. She smiled and kissed my cheek, and it was like for a moment, the bad part of last night disappeared. But it still felt like a goodbye rather than a 'see ya.' The thing was, I didn't cry. I didn't know what I felt. Finally, Sam climbed into her pickup, and Patrick started it up. And a great song was playing. And everyone smiled. Including me. But I wasn't there anymore.