Best 1979 quotes in «lost quotes» category

On top of old Smokey, All covered in snow, I lost my true lover By courting too slow. On top of old Smokey, I went there to weep For a false-hearted lover Is worse than a thief. For a thief he will rob you, And take what you have, But a false-hearted lover Will put you in your grave. They'll hug you and kiss you And tell you more lies Than cross ties on the railroad Or the stars in the skies. So come all you young maidens And listen to me: Never place your affections On a green willow tree, For the leaves they will whither And the roots will die, And you'll all be forsaken And never know why.

Othalas: Words. What are they but shadows on a page or howling on the wind? They are as ever-changing as the mists below us and it is just as easy to lose sense of yourself among them. I am older than most sorcerers so what I know may, indeed, be close to the truth. Magic, wyrd, words, dreams, they all come from the spirit. Within them lie both power and peril. For to misuse any is to warp your sense of self. To lie in words, or in magic, or in dreams -- that is how you become lost. The lights you see, they were lost long before they came to the Vale.

Our parting was like a stalemate…. Neither of us won. Yet both of us lost. And worse still … that unshakable feeling that nothing was ever really finished.

Pain, or pleasure. I could not tell where one ended and the other began.

Pandora's Box could not be unopened, no one could return to Eden.

Part of the urge to explore is a desire to become lost.

Patches don’t look it, but when attached to your soul they can get pretty heavy. They go over the holes in your soul, like when you patch a sock. When you have a hole in your soul, it’s because you’re hurting from something. I don’t know if you noticed, but that girl had a lot of holes.

People move around so much in the world, things get lost.

People speak broken Swahili on purpose. Business people for instance will speak Sheng – a mixture of Swahili and English – because that’s what people want to hear. And what is the government doing? They speak broken Swahili most of the time. Swahili is getting lost and I am really sorry for the future generations.

—Por favor Swanson, no me hagas elegir entre tú y él. —¿Porque lo elegirás a él? —Él es mi novio. —Ni siquiera es tu novio ya. —Pero lo amo. —Entonces ya tomaste tu decisión Kat. —No, no puedo tomarla porque no quiero perder a ninguno de los dos.

Phil Needle stood in the parking lot, suddenly grasping that this was so, that nothing is lost in a world utterly mapped, that nothing is rogue with everything cross-pollinated, as the shouts on the beach lured him across the street to the sand.

Perhaps I was easier to shake off for you because you’re such a together person. I was just an extra layer on the outside… like a blanket you could shrug off and feel just the same…. except maybe a little colder…. But I was always a broken person that was haphazardly held together by little more than my own strength. And so you just seeped in the cracks and mingled with my insides until you became an inseparable part of me. And as painful as that is, it still kind of warms me to know I will always carry a part of you with me.

Poetry is a storm asking peace to dance with her.

-¡Qué lejos estamos! -, suspiró. -¿De qué? -De nosotros mismos

Richard had no idea who he was, any more; no idea what was or what was not true; nor whether he was brave or cowardly, mad or sane, but he knew the next thing he had to do. He stepped on to the train,and all the lights went out.

Ran out of things to say, metaphors for you. Why the ocean’s clear instead of blue, why mountains in the distance had reminded me of you.

Riley's sway as he disappeared down the alley, I recognized it. It wasn't booze. It was the thing that happened when a little too much got a little too messed up. They sway, it's what creeps over a person when they've begun to empty out and don't care enough to put anything back, to replace what has been lost.

Sacajawea's celebrated role on the Lewis and Clark expedition wasn't primarily that of a navigator; she made their being lost more viable by her knowledge of useful plants, of languages, by the way she and her infant signified to the tribes they encountered that this was not a war party, and perhaps by her sense that all this was home, or somebody's home.

Schimbarea este iminentă. Ființa omenească se află în pragul unei noi ere, când își va întoarce iar privirile spre natură și spre ceea ce a fost... spre ideile din cărți precum Zoharul și alte texte străvechi din lumea întreagă. Adevărurile semnificative își au propria forță gravitațională și, în cele din urmă, atrag oamenii spre ele. Va veni o zi în care știința modernă va începe să studieze cu atenție înțelepciunea anticilor. Aceea va fi ziua în care omenirea va începe să afle răspunsurile la marile întrebări ale vieții, încă neelucidate.

She already felt dead in everything but name. What remained to be taken from her? She longed to be enfolded, welcomed, into the earth - to breathe no more, love no more, hurt no more

See you in another life, brotha.

She could spin it between her legs, skip with it, twirl it around her neck and transfer it from one arm to the other. Shelly hooped because she enjoyed it; it calmed her whenever she would have an argument or a bad day at school, and it also allowed her to think. Today, she needed to hoop more than ever.

She chuckled and thought he was a pretentious buffoon. Manhattan had been lost for days. If he had not been hiding out on Long Island with his head up his ass, he’d know that.

September 11… I will never forget feeling scared and vulnerable… I will never forget feeling the deep sad loss of so many lives… I will never forget the smell of the smoke that reached across the water and delivered a deep feeling of doom into my gut… I will never forget feeling the boosted sense of unity and pride… I will never forget seeing the courageous actions of so many men and women… I will never forget seeing people of all backgrounds working together in community… I will never forget seeing what hate can destroy… I will never forget seeing what love can heal…

Shame on the misguided, the blinded, the distracted and the divided. Shame. You have allowed deceptive men to corrupt and desensitize your hearts and minds to unethically fuel their greed.

She cannot be lost because no one is looking for her.

She could now be sad without losing a jot of hope. Nay, rather, the least approach of sadness would begin at once to wake her hope. She regretted nothing that had come, nothing that had gone. She believed more and more that not anything worth having is ever lost; that even the most evanescent shades of feeling are safe for those who grow after their true nature, toward that for which they were made—in other and higher words, after the will of God.

She couldn’t explain it except with the word: there. She was there. Present in herself. She wasn’t always, so it was worth remarking upon.

she has craters but only a fool can deny her beauty. She silently stare sun whole night & reflects his light his love with stars at times.

She looks like an empty shell of a woman with her soul hovering above her. We believe in spiritual guías in Santo Domingo. Hers is her own self. I can see Mami’s soul desperately trying to find its way back into her small body.

Shelly shook her head and made sure she had plenty of space so that she wouldn’t hit anything. As many times before, she kept the hoop close to her waist and then twirled it with small, tight bursts of speed. As the hoop gathered in momentum it started to give off a hum that soon took on a light blue illumination far brighter than the streetlamps. It was so bright, that it lit up the entire backyard.

She is off the heart's map and her compass is spinning.

She said once that time is nothing to me but a series of bookmarks that I use to jump back and forth through the text of my life, returning again and again to the events that mark me in the eyes of my more astute colleagues, as bearing all the characteristics of the classic melancholic.

She's lost in thought. I'm lost in her.

She stood lost in eternity... watching the immense sky...

She sat there alone after getting drenched enough by rain. In the silence of the midnight, Each drop that fell made a sound that was loud enough to wake all the memories inside her one after the other, before she could know what was happening she was lost somewhere in the past where the pictures in mind pushed her into a state of chaotic happiness and a blissful pain.

She thought about this. She had analyzed it in depth. When you live alone, travel alone, exist solely on the outskirts of other people's lives, you do have time to wonder why what you want most in life is out of reach. You also have the time to tell yourself that you don't want it at all, though whether you can ever be completely convinced is something else.

She was always looking for guarantees in a world of none.

She was no better than the shells by her feet, tumbling this way and that at the beck and call of the waves.

She was lost in her longing to understand.

She wondered how it would feel to be beautiful and have it taken away. How much harder would it be than never knowing what it felt like in the first place?

She would let a speeding automobile hit her to show them all how unloved she was.

Shine your light into the darkness and you’ll find lost treasure.

Since the time you left, Life has been like a roller coaster That has only gone down!

Siempre he estado convencido de que el primer mordisco de la enfermedad de mi madre se llevó lo que yo más quería: el beso de buenas noches. Yo pensé que, como el rezo juntos antes de dormir, era otra pérdida de la edad. Una más de las catástrofes de hacerte mayor. Como que dejara de ordenarme la ropa, de removerme el Cola-Cao o de preguntarme al volver del colegio si tenía muchos deberes. Un día las madres dejan de darte el beso de buenas noches, se fue el beso de buenas noches y vinieron la hipoteca del piso y las letras del coche, en mi caso una noche no llegó el beso y aguardé silencioso. La oscuridad se transformó en hostil, lúgubre, inhóspita. Puede que otras noches yo mismo la llamara, pero llega la noche en que no te sientes autorizado para gritarle mamá, ¿vienes? Y no viene nadie. Puede que cuando despiertas a la mañana siguiente seas más adulto, más independiente, pero esa noche tan sólo eres más infeliz. La segunda noche consecutiva sin beso, lloré en silencio. Sentí algo amputado adentro. Si te arrancan un brazo, dudo que duela como perder ese beso.

Some of life's greatest wisdom comes from observing the lives of very lost people.

Society has a herd psychology, so until we have more good shepherds we are lost.

So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault. I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day, but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life. I am not your fault.

Somehow her hula hoop had cut into the driver’s side door like the vehicle was made of cheese.

Slogans seem to be dead; this world is now busy chanting fears of lost democracy