Best 2955 quotes in «sadness quotes» category

The heart knows what it feels.

The heart that bleeds, knows true heartache.-Nina Jean Slack

The Hedgehog I ran away and hid in the woods, I was an imprudent child, in My charmed hedgehog skin, I ran away And I was happy in my fairytale Forest, where no one came in, nor Could have penetrated my white magic, I was protected from any disturbances. I was feeding on blueberries, blackberries, wild Fruits, I ate, wept, and I was looking for The tender raspberry, which, magically, It could change my dreams in reality And could drive all my sadness away; Here in my divine forest I loved And I was much loved...

The heart's smiles help wipe away the soul's tears.

The heart smiles when the soul shines.

The irony is that there is nothing purer than sorrow.

The last thing I remember ia an exquisitely beautiful green and silver moth landing on the curve of my wrist. The sound of rain on the roof of our house gently pulls me toward consciousness. I fight to return to sleep though, wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets, safe at home. I'm vaguely aware that my head aches. Possibly I have the flu and this is why I'm allowed to stay in bed, even though I can tell I've been asleep a long time. My mother's hand strokes my cheek and I don't push is away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don't trust her. Then there's a voice, the wrong voice, not my mother's and i'm scared.

The last thing we wanted was for the Machiguenga to be sad again. Sadness appeared to bring out their violence.

The lightest weight anyone can carry on life’s journey is hope.

The lonely? Where's that from? Sadness' best friend. Sadness brought it along and I couldn't turn it away, so I let it multiply in my pulse instead.

The moments spent with the beloved are Why, today, there is a loneliness The eyes that illuminated this world Are now gone to light up this sheer darkness

The money you are looking for is not in any country, phd or your designer outlook, it is in wisdom. Solomon never prayed for wealth but he asked for wisdom.

The more death, the more birth. People are entering, others are exiting. The cry of a baby, the mourning of others. When others cry, the other are laughing and making merry. The world is mingled with sadness, joy, happiness, anger, wealth, poverty, etc.

The more she was absolutely in need of external friendship, the more disposed was she to reject it, and to declare to herself that she was prepared to stand alone in the world.

The more you love somthing, the harder it is to lose.

The most beautiful things often stand alone.

The mournfulness felt like a hand pressing on my chest.

The last time I felt alive – I was looking into your eyes. Breathing your air…. touching your skin… … Saying goodbye…. The last time I felt alive…. I was dying.

The lonlier your path is, the brighter your future will be.

The midwife blinked back her own tears. "I don't know But these will be difficult days for your family. The midwife was right: the days that followed were terrible and traumatic. Yet when I think back to this time, I remember very little. Perhaps this is the mind's way of protecting us from events that are so devastating we would otherwise lose all reason. The same way a lizard, if its body is threatened, will drop its tail, providing a distraction to the predator in order with its life. And grief, for anyone who has ever experienced it, is exactly like a predator. It steals first your happiness, and then- if you allow it everything else.

The monsters were never under my bed. Because the monsters were inside my head. I fear no monsters, for no monsters I see. Because all this time the monster has been me.

The moon is in a holding cell, grasped between the bones of his failing ribcage.

The New Your energy goes beyond anything you'll find anywhere else. It's too much for some people and it grinds them down, but it lifts up and animates the rest of us.

The next morning I told Mom I couldn't go to school again. She asked what was wrong. I told her, “The same thing that’s always wrong.” “You’re sick?” “I'm sad.” “About Dad?” “About everything.” She sat down on the bed next to me, even though I knew she was in a hurry. “What's everything?” I started counting on my fingers: “The meat and dairy products in our refrigerator, fistfights, car accidents, Larry–” “Who's Larry?” “The homeless guy in front of the Museum of Natural History who always says ‘I promise it’s for food’ after he asks for money.” She turned around and I zipped her dress while I kept counting. “How you don’t know who Larry is, even though you probably see him all the time, how Buckminster just sleeps and eats and goes to the bathroom and has no ‘raison d’etre’, the short ugly guy with no neck who takes tickets at the IMAX theater, how the sun is going to explode one day, how every birthday I always get at least one thing I already have, poor people who get fat because they eat junk food because it’s cheaper…” That was when I ran out of fingers, but my list was just getting started, and I wanted it to be long, because I knew she wouldn't leave while I was still going. “…domesticated animals, how I have a domesticated animal, nightmares, Microsoft Windows, old people who sit around all day because no one remembers to spend time with them and they’re embarrassed to ask people to spend time with them, secrets, dial phones, how Chinese waitresses smile even when there’s nothing funny or happy, and also how Chinese people own Mexican restaurants but Mexican people never own Chinese restaurants, mirrors, tape decks, my unpopularity in school, Grandma’s coupons, storage facilities, people who don’t know what the Internet is, bad handwriting, beautiful songs, how there won’t be humans in fifty years–” “Who said there won't be humans in fifty years?” I asked her, “Are you an optimist or a pessimist?” She looked at her watch and said, “I'm optimistic.” “Then I have some bed news for you, because humans are going to destroy each other as soon as it becomes easy enough to, which will be very soon.” “Why do beautiful songs make you sad?” “Because they aren't true.” “Never?” “Nothing is beautiful and true.

Then I tell you that sadness, in a way, is just another form of beauty. It can be a bit more melancholic, dramatic, heart-breaking and so, so quiet. The most emotional of things, finding its reflection in the world in decay, are those things we love the most from time to time.

The nostalgia of a moment's love can be an illusionary precipice from which we fall from truth; in heartbreak, what we escape to in the past is what tortures us in the present.

The night that our friend's wife died, my brokenhearted husband called his mother: "What do I say?"... There is nothing to say. Stop thinking there is something to say to make it go away. It won't go away. Abandon your answers. Avoid your cliches. Don't blame God and don't blame him. Learn to sit in the sadness.

The one who sees thought as a thought is the witness to mind and no longer subject to suffering.

The only people in the whole world that Salim loved had been killed by the virus that traveled to America in his own blood.

The only place I ever felt at home was with you. There isn’t a place for me anywhere anymore… I’ve been evicted.

The only thing that will ever be real, is this moment,' I turned to the statue, 'when you made me feel alive, when you made me feel real, when I felt like you really love me. Now? I'm just your monster, Frankie. I will always be a monster.

The pain will always be in you — but you will not always be in pain.

the path is lost, and I’ve become part of the wreckage − another meaningless casualty.

The path you walk is unique and needed. There is no other like yours. On your path you experience love, joy and peace, as well as loneliness, sadness and torment. These all are specific lessons you choose to rediscover your divine identity.

The people who are happy for your happiness and sad for your sadness... keep them around.

The perennial sadness of a girl who is both death and the maiden.

The perpetual Tristeza growning within you The rich Tristeza of the smell of roses The lonesome Tristeza of you closer The painful Tristeza of my words The sacred Tristeza of our sex The illuminated Tristeza of a dream The beautiful Tristeza of Patricia.

The person who tries to place you in the darkness they live in has reached full blown distress. This is the saddest part of their situation. They are about to give up. Instead of reaching for help, they reach for company so they’re not alone.

The person who has an extra sweet tongue, that one speaks completely by the mind but not from the heart what actually does is, hides Poison of mind behind the sweetness of tongue

The person you hurt the most in this world was the person that brought you into it.

The poeticization of words I was worried now, I do not do it anymore, and the silence continues to ravage my soul I was worried now, I do not know and the silence of love continues to ravage my soul and my heart drained of emotions and the lonely road never seems to end the lightning of love continues to fail   and I stay with a heart full of burning scars   I see them in the crowd the mocking laughter the bad jokers, the worthless people who are afraid double-edged friends who stab, and slash without thinking about the consequences scars forming in the mind filled with screaming voices his stubborn voices will never leave me paralyzer adding weight to the confusion of insecurity wearing I was worried now, I do not do it anymore, and the silence continues to ravage my soul I was worried now, I do not know and the silence continues to ravage my soul the music call me night fall to deliver me in synchronicity words memorize restitution of my thinking I do not know to ask me but why is my heart still so hollow? and I can not find rest in any place he told me one day everything will be better but the weight of emotions enclose me agonize and I have to stay hidden because this world is without mercy I was worried now, I do not do it anymore, and the silence continues to ravage my soul I was worried now, I do not know and the silence of love continues to ravage my soul and I'm tearing from the inside my friends do not see it because a wall was built and the trust beat hospitalizer never got back from the fight lead lonely in a slice surround with explosions of bad intent and radiation of emotions my last companion the poeticization of words. (Marty Bisson Milo)

The poetry of God is often written with stanzas of tears. Life can be brutal and difficult to understand. We sometimes find ourselves heart-broken and weeping over its circumstances. But God cares and understands. Tears have a language all their own, and tear-filled eyes are not a sign of faltering faith, but of our humanity. If God has put the love in your heart, He also understands its frailty and your tears.

The place in her, though, where her tears should have come from, was rough and dry. No, she didn't find any tears in herself to cry for the storyteller. The storyteller didn't exist anymore.

The poetry I love best has words that glimmer like moon gold on dark waters, and a hidden undertow which pulls me into its delicate sadness.

The possibility of sadness is tightly bound to the capacity for joy. A godly sadness is as precious in the eyes of the Lord as the joy that corresponds to it.

The problem wasn’t that I loved you. It was that you loved me and then I loved you. Then one day you stopped while I still did.

The process of living, for each of us, is pretty similar. For every gain there is a setback. For every success, a failure. For every moment of joy, a time of sadness. For every hope realized, one is dashed.

The rain echoed in the shadowy attic space and made me feel small and fragile, like a lace glove left behind on moving day - mateless and abandoned.

The real world—where I probably could never be happy, and never get anywhere.

The real you is not sad, angry, depressed, ashamed, hurt, bitter or lost. These things are not real. They feel real but they're not. As spiritual beings living a brief human existence, this is not who we are. We are beautiful, radiant, joyful and loving.