Best 2955 quotes in «sadness quotes» category

The voice had an extraordinary sadness. Pure from all body, pure from all passion, going out into the world, solitary, unanswered, breaking against rocks—so it sounded.

The voice that says, “That’s the way I am,” is the voice of knowledge. It’s the voice of the liar living in the Tree of Knowledge in your head. The Toltec consider it a mental disease that is highly contagious because it’s transmitted from human to human through knowledge. The symptoms of the disease are fear, anger, hatred, sadness, jealousy, conflict, and separation between humans. Again, these lies are controlling the dream of our life. I think this is obvious.

The way sadness works is one of the strange riddles of the world. If you are stricken with a great sadness, you may feel as if you have been set aflame, not only because of the enormous pain, but also because your sadness may spread over your life, like smoke from an enormous fire. You might find it difficult to see anything but your own sadness, the way smoke can cover a landscape so that all anyone can see is black. You may find that if someone pours water all over you, you are damp and distracted, but not cured of your sadness, the way a fire department can douse a fire but never recover what has been burnt down.

The water under the bridge looked strangely enticing. For a mortuary, it was oddly breathtaking. I felt in tune with all the beings lying underneath, creatures no different than me, some of them human, lost on their way to heaven, who decided to end it all one day for reasons no one else could comprehend. It pained my heart to think I was in that place.

The way sadness works is one of the strangest riddles of the world. If you are stricken with a great sadness, you may feel as if you have been set aflame, not only because of the enormous pain, but also because your sadness may spread over your life, like smoke from an enormous fire. You might find it difficult to see anything but your own sadness, the way smoke can cover a landscape so that all anyone can see is black. You may find that happy things are tainted with sadness, the way smoke leaves its ashen colors and scents on everything it touches. And you may find that if someone pours water all over you, you are damp and distracted, but not cured of your sadness, the way a fire department can douse a fire but never recover what has been burnt down.

the wine the sadness and the night

The winds shook off in unison and yipped beneath the gleaming stars. She gave him her lips. They kissed. And she was in love with the thunder.

The wind took me away from you, Draped with fear, waking nightmare, I lost all sense of who I could become, Your exuberant hold slipped away, Irresolute, impulsive, irreconcilable.

The wind made me shiver as i pulled my arms into my T-shirt. There I was, cold, isolated and desperate for something I knew I couldn't have. A solution. A remedy. Anything. The silence continued except for my own footsteps. I hated it. Alone and confused was the last place I wanted to be. Somehow I knew I deserved this.

The world is thinning and the earth...it's still spinning my world is thinning and it’s all because of one person I’m missing.

The world is far too lovely to be sad all the time.

The world is full of problems and I bet you the problems will continue to exist but what will make you relevant to the world is when you have answers to the questions the world asks. You can only be useful when you have the answers to the questions of the world. The best way you provide solutions and answers to those challenges is through wisdom.

The world was not to be trusted. Loved persons were always stolen. Dreams always squashed. That was life as she understood it.

The world was alive, the sky descending; our times were lullabies and sad goodbyes.

The worst sadness of all is the one pacing without tears.

The worst way to miss someone is to have them sitting right next to you and know you can never have them.

They are nothing but a broken bones crawling in the shadow of the past.

They can't see your pain They can't see your sadness They will smile if you smile to them They will leave you if you frown to them

They don’t know I only speak in runaway train stations and everybody is always a few minutes too late to the platform. No one has ever gotten the chance to get too close because it is never romantic to fuck the girl who makes love to her own sadness every single night.

They do not understand, therefore I shut every one out.

They may be complete strangers, with different lives and different problems, but there in that examination room they are measuring sadness the same way. They are measuring it in loss.

They responded to sadness only when it expressed itself as sadness, she thought. Sadness expressed as anger or hostility just turned people off.

They safely cured the world of sadness, wiser the Pfizer for it?

They say “Follow your heart”…. …. But I can’t follow you where you’re going…

They say, Grace, why don’t you ever smile or laugh, we never see you smiling, and I say I suppose Miss I have gotten out of the way of it, my face won’t bend in that direction any more.

They say the truth hurts. And these words hurt more than any I have ever written. But they are the truth – The cold, hard, undeniable truth. Not letting go doesn’t keep him with you. It’s still over. He’s still gone. … And nothing will ever change that.

They talk about prohibition in America. What can one do in a country such as that?    'What does one do in America when one is sad - without alcohol?' asks Zwonimir.

They walked along in silence. Silence was the only way of not thinking about Karenin in the past tense. They did not let him out of their sight; they were with him constantly, waiting for him to smile. But he did not smile; he merely walked with them, limping along on his three legs. He's just doing it for us, said Tereza. He didn't want to go for a walk. He's just doing it to make us happy. It was sad, what she said, yet without realizing it they were happy. They were happy not in spite of their sadness but thanks to it. They were holding hands and both had the same image in their eyes: a limping dog who represented ten years of their lives.

Things like "Everything happens for a reason" and "You'll become a stronger/kinder/more compassionate person because of this" brings out rage in grieving people. Nothing makes a person angrier than when they know they're being insulted but can't figure out how. It's not just erasing your current pain that makes words of comfort land so badly. There's a hidden subtext in those statements about becoming a better, kinder, and more compassionate because of your loss, that often-used phrase about knowing what's "truly important in life" now that you've learned how quickly life can change. The unspoken second half of the sentence in this case says you needed this somehow. It says that you weren't aware of what was important in life before this happened. It says that you weren't kind, compassionate, or aware enough in your life before this happened. That you needed this experience in order to develop or grow, that you needed this lesson in order to step into your "true path" in life. As though loss and hardship were the only ways to grow as a human being. As though pain were the only doorway to a better, deeper life, the only way to be truly compassionate and kind.

Things are not as they seem. You do not understand. There is no escape. This is all there is.” I had never seen eyes filled with so much sadness.

Thirteen days. Almost two weeks. And, just five days in, she had learned a fundamental truth about time: Like the accordion on which sometimes played old Pashto songs were played, time stretched and contracted depending on his absence or presence.

Think of it, I literally had to touch death and be born again to live a glimpse of the life that I never had.

Thinking about sadness and loneliness, and what it means to be sad, how to live with it, walk through it and grow from it. There is a loneliness in sadness that one can find distractions to escape, but at the end of the day, there it is again. So, how to embrace that loneliness, and trust the uncertainty of tomorrow and the next days, weeks, and months? Loneliness seems like a constantly expanding universe and the sadness is like a sheer veil surrounding it. The two work hand in hand, and there is only one way to navigate; go deep into oneself, as no one else has the map. None of this is a terrible thing; sadness adds rich meaningful layers into life, painful as it is, and loneliness is only a state of mind. Profound changes can come from living your sadness, feeling it completely, and housing it in solitude. The day will come when one emerges, brave and beautiful.

Thirteen days. Almost two weeks. And, just five days in, she had learned a fundamental truth about time: Like the accordion on which old Pashto songs were sometimes played, time stretched and contracted depending on his absence or presence.

This empty shell holds nothing but the echoes of what was.

This is another awful truth of losing people you love: everyone needs something different. And the needs almost never match up.

This heart is a hurricane, turbulent with ache screaming winds of grief waiting to make the sky fall, to pluck the clouds from their beds with its whipping winds

This is how sudden things happened that haunted forever.

This is old age, he thought sadly. He was sad because he had expected aging and the gradual extinction of his passions to bring a brightening and easing of his life, to take him a step nearer to harmony and mature peace of soul, and now age seemed to be disappointing and cheating him by offering nothing but this weary, gray, joyless emptiness, this feeling of chronic satiation

This is what happens when you look back to happiness, this pain, this heart-break, this discontent

This life is ironic: for it takes pain to discover pleasure; it takes sadness to know happiness; it takes war to value peace; and it takes hatred to treasure love. [Culled from: "Amara & The Strange Elderly Woman"]

This man has the same kind of charm, the kind that suggests weakness, the kind that indicates how sad he will always make her feel. There is something dependable, unfailing in this sort of sadness.

This is what we're like. We are broken individuals, committing to what will be a broken union in a broken world.

This mournful and restless sound was a fit accompaniment to my meditations.

This morning I awoke drowning in sadness. Sleepily, I probed my heart looking for a cause. Then, rising from the dream, I took possession of my feelings and gave them back to God - the only Source of my life. And that feeling of sadness - redeemed - became a deeply felt compassion, a determination to make a difference….

This time around I was so lonely that I was forced to be face to face with myself. Realizing at the end of the day I only have me and I didn't seem to like my own company. I decided to I had to make myself into someone I can live with.

This was our ritual as we waited for our lives to truly begin and I think now that maybe true sweetness can only happen in limbo. I don't know why. Is it because we are so unsure, so tentative and waiting? Like it needs that much room, that much space to expand. The not knowing anything really, the hoping, the aching transience: This is not real, not really, and so we let it alone, let it unfold lightly. Those times that can fly...While we waited...to do the real work of living. She also confessed that in an odd way she was happier here than she'd ever been. Even with all the loss. Happier "being" whatever that was. Than "waiting.

This world is too big to only care about skin, hair and looks. There is too much going on around us all the time. This universe doesn’t stop for you and me, this world is not going to end with our worthless anxiety and sadness. Don’t put your happiness in someone else’s hands. Just because someone tells you that you are not beautiful doesn’t make you an ugly person from within overnight.

Thomas had never seen anything like her in his life, and he knew, with a beautiful sort of sadness, that he never would again.

This susceptibility to impressions had been his undoing, no doubt. Still at his age he had, like a boy or a girl even, these alternations of mood; good days, bad days, for no reason whatever, happiness from a pretty face, downright misery at the sight of a frump.