Best 2955 quotes in «sadness quotes» category

Or is what remains in me like a defeated army, Fleeing in disarray from victory already won?

Or is it the case that no one gets over anything? Is there really that much pain and suffering continuing right now at this minute, in millions of hearts, in bodies carrying on the burden of existence, trying to smile through tears for fleeting, passing moments here and there-when they can forget what happened to them, maybe even for whole hours at a time? Maybe that's what it is to live.

Our life is not short; the only thing that is short is our stay.

Our life is not in stuff, focus your attention on Christ where it should be. Prosperity and wealth has damaged the body of Christ. God takes pleasure in the prosperity of his children but don't replace him with material.

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.

Out of the starless night that covers me, (O tribulation of the wind that rolls!) Black as the cloud of some tremendous spell, The susurration of the sighing sea Sounds like the sobbing whisper of two souls That tremble in a passion of farewell. To the desires that trebled life in me, (O melancholy of the wind that rolls!) The dreams that seemed the future to foretell, The hopes that mounted herward like the sea, To all the sweet things sent on happy souls, I cannot choose but bid a mute farewell. And to the girl who was so much to me (O lamentation of this wind that rolls!) Since I may not the life of her compel, Out of the night, beside the sounding sea, Full of the love that might have blent our souls, A sad, a last, a long, supreme farewell.

Out of the seven billion people sharing the planet with her, not one of them knew what was going through her head. Not one of them knew she was lost. Not one of them asked.

Outside it was dark, but not as dark as it was inside of me.

-Ouve esta música? É a expressão da minha vida: uma partitura admirável, estragada por um horrível, por um infame executante...

Paige had a sadness that was so desperate that it could not yet turn into anger.

Pain can mask itself as a righteous companion; silently forming a barrier between you & all that is good for you. Identify Pain. Now thank Pain for showing you that all of your senses & emotions are working as you send him on his way. Traveling with pain can slow you down & limit the distance you travel.

pain demands to be felt..

Pain, like a pinecone unfolding, seemed to blossom beneath her breastbone.

Pain whispers through silent words entombed in scars shyly palpable in fleeting glimpses briefly allowed

Paint the stars and the moon back into my night sky and tell me it is okay to cry without asking why.

Pain is transitory despite its depths. Hate eventually eats itself into a hollow void. Sadness can last only as long as life itself. But love, love extends beyound reason and time. -- Excerpt from the Lost Chapters of the Ecliptic Scrolls

Pain pumps blood when heart dies

— Para você — Gisa diz, estendendo a mão boa, de onde pende um retalho de seda preta. O tecido é frio e escorregadio. — De antes. Flores vermelhas e douradas enfeitam o pano, bordadas com uma habilidade de mestre. — Eu lembro — murmuro, correndo o dedo sobre a perfeição impossível. Ela bordou isto há muito tempo, uma noite antes de o agente quebrar sua mão. Está inacabado, assim como o antigo destino dela. Assim como Shade. Trêmula, amarro o tecido no punho. — Obrigada, Gisa. — Enfio a mão no bolso e digo: — Também tenho uma coisa para você, minha garota. Uma bijuteria barata. O brinco solitário combina com o mar de inverno ao nosso redor. Ela perde o fôlego ao segurá-lo. As lágrimas logo vêm, mas não posso vê-las

Para mim, o mundo é apenas o mundo, Graciano: um palco em que todos nós representamos um papel, sendo o meu triste.

Part of the forces that sent Sam trudging across the white prairies was love of life, a gladness for health and youth that filled him as Mozart's gayest music filled him; and part of it was his belief that the earth on which he walked had been designed by the greatest of artists, and that is a man had the courage and fortitude not to fail it, it would not fail him. In Sam's rough mountain-man philosophy those persons who became the wards of sadness and melancholy had never summoned for use and trial more than a part of what they had in them, and so had failed themselves and their Creator. If it was a part of the inscrutable plan that he was to live through this ordeal, and again cover the bones of wife and child with mountain lilies, the strength was lying in him, waiting, and he had only to call on it- all of it- and use it, without flinching or whimpering. If he showed himself to be a worthy piece in the Great Architect's edifice he would live; in Sam's philosophy that was about all there was to it.

[Peggotty] gave me one piece of intelligence which affected me very much, namely, that there had been a sale of the furniture at our old home, and that Mr. and Miss Murdstone were gone away, and the house was shut up, to be let or sold. I had no part in it while they remained there, but it pained me to think of the dear old place as altogether abandoned; of the weeds growing tall in the garden, and the fallen leaves lying thick and wet upon the paths. I imagined how the winds of winter would howl round it, how the cold rain would beat upon the window-glass, how the moon would make ghosts on the walls of the empty rooms, watching their solitude all night. I thought afresh of the grave in the churchyard, underneath the tree: and it seemed as if the house were dead, too [...].

People come and go from our lives all the time. It's not our fault that people leave. The Universe is just making room for new people with new lessons.

People don't hurt, But Expectations from people give you sadness.

People come in and out of your life. For a time they are your world; they are everything. And then one day they're not. There's no telling how long you will have them near. A year ago I could not have imagined that Josh would no longer be a constant for me. I couldn't have conceived of how hard it would be to not see Margot every day, how lost I would feel without her- or how easily Josh could slip away, without me even realizing. It's the good-byes that are hard.

People do not belong to others, either. How can the huincas buy and sell people if they do not own them. Sometimes the boy went two or three days without speaking a word, surly, and not eating, and when asked what was the matter, the answer was always the same: "There are content days and there are sad days. Each person is a master of his silence.

People drown, quietly, before our eyes, all the time.

People don’t need nice; they need the truth. I find it ridiculous that a guy has this kind of hold on you. Have some self-respect. It’s insane to give full control of your emotions to someone who doesn’t give a damn about you

People first make unhappy, then say stay happy.

People rarely ventured outside the realm of their own hurts. They believed their own suffering was obvious to all, but might as well have been wearing blinders for all that they noticed anyone else's.

People says it gets easier. People are stupid." -Vlad

People think being depressed is just being tired and lazy. It isn't. It's more like being dead when you're still breathing.

People who are less happy, I find, are always consoling those who are more.

People who shout joy from the rooftops are often the saddest of all.

People with vision sees opportunity where there is problem. They see money not problem.

People would want to get safe and come to Christ because they see the evidence in your life not because you quote the scriptures to them.

Percy, let me go" she croaked. "You can't pull me up." His face was white with effort. She could see in his eyes that he knew it was hopeless. "Never," he said. He looked up at Nico, fifteen feet above. "The other side, Nico! We'll see you there. Understand?" Nico's eyes widened. "But-" "Lead them!" Percy shouted. "Promise me!" "I-I will." Below them, the voice laughed in the darkness. Sacrifices. Beautiful sacrifices to wake the goddess. Percy tightened his grip on Annabeth's wrist. His face was gaunt, scraped and bloody, his hair dusted with cobwebs, but when he locked eyes with her, she thought he had never looked more handsome. "We're staying together," he promised. "You're not getting away from me. Never again." Only then did she understand what would happen. A one-way trip. A very hard fall. "As long as we're together," she said. She heard Nico and Hazel still screaming for help. She saw sunlight far, far above- maybe the last sunlight she would ever see. Then Percy let go of his ledge, and together, holding hands, he and Annabeth fell into the endless darkness.

Perhaps many things inside you have been transformed; perhaps somewhere, someplace deep inside your being, you have undergone important changes while you were sad. The only sadnesses that are dangerous and unhealthy are the ones that we carry around in public in order to drown them out with the noise; like diseases that are treated superficially and foolishly, they just withdraw and after a short interval break out again all the more terribly; and gather inside us and are life, are life that is unlived, rejected, lost, life that we can die of. If only it were possible for us to see farther than our knowledge reaches, and even a little beyond the outworks of our presentiment, perhaps we would bear our sadnesses with greater trust than we have in our joys. For they are the moments when something new has entered us, something unknown; our feelings grow mute in shy embarrassment, everything in us withdraws, a silence arises, and the new experience, which no one knows, stands in the midst of it all and says nothing.

Perhaps many things inside you have been transformed; perhaps somewhere, someplace deep inside your being, you have undergone important changes while you were sad. The only sadnesses that are dangerous and unhealthy are the ones that we carry around in public in order to drown them out with the noise; like diseases that are treated superficially and foolishly, they just withdraw and after a short interval break out again all the more terribly; and gather inside us and are life, are life that is unlived, rejected, lost, life that we can die of.

Perhaps Hurston saw in her mother, Lucy, a version of Persephone, who is so missed when she's gone that the world literally starts to die. This type of grief, as Toni Morrison writes in Sula, has no top and no bottom, "just circles and circles of sorrow.

Perhaps it goes without saying that I believe in the geographic cure. Of course you can't out-travel sadness. You will find it has smuggled itself along in your suitcase. It coats the camera lens, it flavors the local cuisine. In that different sunlight, it stands out, awkward, yours, honking in the brash vowels of your native tongue in otherwise quiet restaurants. You may even feel proud of its stubbornness as it follows you up the bell towers and monuments, as it pants in your ear while you take in the view. I travel not to get away from my troubles but to see how they look in front of famous buildings or on deserted beaches. I take them for walks. Sometimes I get them drunk. Back at home we generally understand each other better.

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.

Pero es inevitable, ¿no crees? cuando pierdes a alguien y te sigue doliendo es cuando sabes que el amor fue real

Persistent smile brings out hollow dimples, and persistent frowns brings out hollow wrinkles.

Photos which captures human sadness are the noblest and the most meaningful of all the photos!

perhaps we would bear our sadnesses with greater trust than we have in our joys

Please understand that you don’t always have to make jokes about your sadness. You are allowed to suffer, too.

¿Por qué el ser humano es tan cruel,joder? ¿Por qué?

Please don't tell me not to be sad. I know you don't like to see me hurting, but my sadness is mine to feel, not yours to heal. Let me be sad. It will pass in its own time. It always does.

Poking at the memories, at the guilt she felt over her sister, was like prodding a bear that could wake and consume her at any moment.

Polly había llorado tanto que se sentía deshidratada. El llanto juvenil es una cosa y el llanto adulto otra muy distinta. Las lágrimas de la juventud son limpiadoras, como las siestas o las duchas tonificantes. Una buena llorera hace que el joven que sufre sienta que se ha conseguido algo. Las lágrimas de la edad adulta dejan a la víctima seca y agotada. Dejan los ojos escocidos. Dejan a su paso un dolor bajo las costillas y en la frente.