Best 1203 quotes in «tragedy quotes» category

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    Perhaps this was one of the tragedies life plots for us: it is our destiny to become in old age what in youth we would have most despised.

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    ...rarely do the 'significant events' in our lives change us. At least, not in any way we want. The people who suffer tragedy and go on to greatness? They're the stuff of movies and TV shows and books, and--only very rarely--real life. Most of us just go on, the walking wounded, dealing with our lives. This doesn't make us bad--it just means we're not superheroes. It means we're just people, like everyone else.

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    Pleasure of tragedy is vicarious suicide

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    See? Memories aren't happy, they're sad. Don't you know anything?

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    Shakespearean tragedies do not deal chiefly with the working-class people and focus mostly on the fall of the kings, princes, generals etc. because a beggar has nothing to lose but if a king loses everything suddenly and gets poor, then the readers or audience become so sad and feel like crying in the end!

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    (...)que morrer é acabar e amor não tem saída(...)

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    She didn't need friends; she needed to be a bigger bitch. Chubby Chaser, 11/21/14. Available for preorder on Amazon.

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    She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.

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    She has become someone that I am bound to forget her.

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    She'd been conceived as a goddess of justice. But this wasn't just. It wasn't right. And her husband's wrongful death would not go unavenged. Kissing cold lips Bathymaas laid him on the ground and covered his body with her cloak. Artemis gasped and shrank away from her as she rose to her feet and turned towards Apollo and his mother. For this, there would be hell to pay. And hers would be the hand that gathered the payment.

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    She has decided to keep going, as anyone could tell by her closed eyes and calm expression. She realizes that all big decisions are ones that must be decided and decided again. She imagines that when you fall in love, you must decided to be in love a million times or more, and when you go to college, you must decide again and again to stay in college, and the same thing is true when you decide to run across the United States of America after a horrible tragedy. When you are a person who cares for any other person, you must decide again to care, she also understands.

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    Save me from the things that I love.

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    She laid in the rubble of the vengeant storm that passed by. They found nothing on her breathing body, except the stains of her predator

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    she is waiting the day she would stop writing about him in her daily book

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    She nailed it to the wall with her well-aimed dart, like a butterfly with no will whose sentence has always been written.

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    She knew for a fact that she wasn't going to sit around and wait for some miracle to happen. She wasn't going to watch the storm in front of her and pretend like nothing had happened. Yes, Allah is expecting her to be patient and keep on marching forward

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    She wanted to touch him, to throw her arms around him — but something held her back. Maybe it was the fear that her arms would pass right through him, that she would have come all this way only to find a ghost after all. As though he’d been able to read her thoughts, he slowly angled toward her. He raised his hands and held his palms out to her. Isobel lifted her own hands to mirror his. He pressed their palms together, his fingers folding down to lace through hers. She felt a rush of warmth course through her, a relief as pure and sweet as spring rain. He was real. This was real. She had found him. She could touch him. She could feel him. Finally they were together. Finally, finally, they could forget this wasted world and go home. "I knew it wasn’t true," she whispered. "I knew you wouldn’t stop believing." He drew her close. Leaning into him, she felt him press his lips to her forehead in a kiss. As he spoke, the cool metal of his lip ring grazed her skin, causing a shudder to ripple through her. "You..." His voice, low and breathy, reverberated through her, down to the thin soles of her slippers. "You think you’re different," he said. She felt his hands tighten around hers, gripping hard, too hard. A streak of violet lightning split the sky, striking close behind them. The house, Isobel thought. It had been struck. She could hear it cracking apart. She looked for only a brief moment, long enough to watch it split open. "But you’re not," Varen said, calling her attention back to him. Isobel winced, her own hands surrendering under the suddenly crushing pressure of his hold. A face she did not recognize stared down at her, one twisted with anger — with hate. "You," he scarcely more than breathed, "are just like every. Body. Else." He moved so fast. Before she could register his words or the fact that she had once spoken them to him herself, he jerked her to one side. Isobel felt her feet part from the rocks. Weightlessness took hold of her as she swung out and over the ledge of the cliff. As he let her go. The wind whistled its high and lonely song in her ears. She fell away into the oblivion of the storm until she could no longer see the cliff — could no longer see him. Only the slip of the pink ribbon as it unraveled from her wrist, floating up and away from her and out of sight forever.

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    She thought men were saviors... ...And she looked for more in them than what they were... Only to rescue herself from those she wished would rescue her... And isn't that the most tragic lie... The lie where we tell what we wished were true and believe it...? She had an artificial memory, a prosthesis to a past that never was... She was like a party that no one ever went to... Like a cure...without a disease... And isn't that the greatest fear of all...to be ready with the answers to questions that no one asks anymore?

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    She still held sorrows, but she was not made of them. Her life was not a tragedy. It was a history, and it was hers.

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    She was so full of holes now, she was like a Swiss cheese.

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    Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty, beyond waht can be valued, rich or rare; no less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honor; as much as child e'er loved, or father found; a love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; beyond all manner of so much I love you.

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    So be careful when you bend over.

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    Shut up and do not think. All the theorists agree: shut up and keep the words from being said. And all of the scars will remain invisible; and all of the scars will remain under the skin. Where they belong.

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    Someday we'll meet again and when we do, I hope that at that point in time, I'll be enough for you.

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    Someone must have talked plenty, because on an afternoon in June 2008, Sarvannantha Pereira was detained by men who didn't say who whey were. They would call it an arrest. It felt more like an abduction.

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    Some are born rich While others poor; Some are born free While others captives; Some are born blessed While others deprived; Some are born strong While others weak; And some are born great While others slaves. It is only in this life blessings are unequal.

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    Someone who doesn’t know if tomorrow will come would rather live every day twice than live it once.

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    Simultaneously, the child's life-mongering energy felt a metamorphosis within itself, having lost all matter and yet still being summoned by intoxicating ideas, an aching fluency of desires, a liberating rearranging buoyancy.

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    Someone experiencing the stages of grief is rarely aware of how his behavior might appear to others. Grief often produces a “zoom lens effect,” in which the focus is entirely on oneself, to the exclusion of external considerations.

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    Someone is going to tell you to get use to this. That feeling of being scared and sad. They're going to say it'll be better when you learn to ignore it. Don't listen to them. Hold on to it, remember it... Don't let yourself forget it. It's too easy to lose. -Carl Grimes

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    Some people's glasses are half full. I'm the one drinking them. Some people have forgotten that Pluto is still a planet. I still remember my childhood. Some people are vegans. I have common sense. Some people call me Maurice. Some people call me the Gangsta of Love. Some people just want to live...but me, I'm the one still alive.

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    Sometimes by holding onto what you love the most — you end up choking the very life from the thing you want to keep on living. It’s possible to try too hard, to love something so deeply that you lose yourself. The danger is never in loving someone — but losing your identity in the process. Because what happens when tragedy strikes? You’re left an empty shell. You’re left with nothing.

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    Sometimes I am asked if I know the response to Auschwitz; I answer that not only do I not know it, but that I don't even know if a tragedy of this magnitude HAS a response. What I do know is that there is response in responsibility. When we speak of this era of evil and darkness, so close and yet so distant, responsibility is the key word, The witness has forced himself to testify. For the youth of today, for the children who will be born tomorrow. He does not want his past to become their future.

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    Sometimes the worst beatings we endure are never the physical kind.

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    Something has gotten into me; something I didn’t want. The moment my skin touched hers, it overwhelmed me with desires of the deepest kind. It’s crawled beneath my flesh, and my every pore is infected by her. An addiction that is as frustrating as this illness.

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    Soon his body was quiet.

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    Sorry. Don't need sorry. Not in this house. Sorry laid the hearth here. Sorry ways and sorry people and heavensent grief and heartache to make you pine for your death.

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    Such was the cyclical nature of Galway life: finding tragedy in the simple things and simplicity in the tragic things.

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    Something very beautiful happens to people when their world has fallen apart: a humility, a nobility, a higher intelligence emerges at just the point when our knees hit the floor. Perhaps, in a way, that's where humanity is now: about to discover we're not as smart as we thought we were, will be forced by life to surrender our attacks and defenses which avail us of nothing, and finally break through into the collective beauty of who we really are." [Facebook post, August 31, 2013]

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    So our virtues Lie in the interpretation of the time: And power, unto itself most commendable, Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair To extol what it hath done. One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.

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    Sözlerinizde ki öfkeyi anlıyorum. Ama sözlerinizi değil...

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    Suffering is the fire by which love is tested.

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    Such a tragic exhibition resembles a comet's course, hardly visible at first, revealing itself only to the eyes astronomic eye, appears in nebulous distance in heavens, but soon soars with unheard-of and accelerating rapidity towards the central point of our system, scattering dismay among the nations of the earth, till, a moment, when least expected, with its portentous tail it overspeads half of the firmament with resplendent flame.

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    TEIRESIAS: You have your eyes but see not where you are in sin, nor where you live, nor whom you live with. Do you know who your parents are? Unknowing you are enemy to kith and kin in death, beneath the earth, and in this life.

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    Talkatives complain, cry, shout, brag, and are more hysterical about their lives than something else; don’t be a part of that tragedy! Perhaps it's been a while now that you have been complaining, crying and shouting about your "labour pains". It's time to show us your baby!

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    TEIRESIAS: I tell you, king, this man, this murderer (whom you have long declared you are in search of, indicting him in threatening proclamation as murderer of Laius)- he is here. In name he is a stranger among citizens but soon he will be shown to be a citizen true native Theban, and he'll have no joy of the discovery: blindness for sight and beggary for riches his exchange, he shall go journeying to a foreign country tapping his way before him with a stick. He shall be proved father and brother both to his own children in his house; to her that gave him birth, a son and husband both; a fellow sower in his father's bed with that same father that he murdered. Go within, reckon that out, and if you find me mistaken, say I have no skill in prophecy.

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    Sure, some news is bigger news than other news. War is bigger news than a girl having mixed feelings about the way some guy fucked her and didn't call. But I don't believe in a finite economy of empathy; I happen to think that paying attention yields as much as it taxes.

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    Tell her I'm sorry I sold the diamond, eh?" Sammy said. "I broke my promise. When she disappeared in Alaska... ah, so long ago, I finally used that diamond, moved to Texas as I always dreamed. I started my machine shop. Started my family! It was a good life, but Haze; was right. The diamond came with a curse. I never saw her again." "Oh, Sammy," Hazel said. "No, a curse didn't keep me away. I wanted to come back. I died!" The old man didn't seem to hear. He smiled down at the baby, and kissed him on the head. "I give you my blessing, Leo. First male great-grandchild! I have a feeling you are special, like Hazel was. You are more than a regular baby, eh? You will carry on for me. You will see her someday. Tell her hello for me.

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    TEIRESIAS: Alas, how terrible is wisdom when it brings no profit to the man that's wise! This I knew well, but had forgotten it, else I would not have come here.

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    That's what makes a tragedy a tragedy. There's no rhyme or reason to it, only heartbreak. The only thing you can do when the ground stops shaking and the waters recede is try to save whoever's left.

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