Best 2955 quotes in «sadness quotes» category

The confused medley of meditations on art and literature in which he had indulged since his isolation, as a dam to bar the current of old memories, had been rudely swept away, and the onrushing, irresistible wave crashed into the present and future, submerging everything beneath the blanket of the past, filling his mind with an immensity of sorrow, on whose surface floated, like futile wreckage, absurd trifles and dull episodes of his life.

the curve of her young shoulders and the tilt of her downcast head would make her appear to be terribly alone and if you were there to notice this, you might go down as the first person to fall in love with the sadness of another

The dam of my eyes broke, and tears flooded the land.

The dark skies of despair are no match for the bright skies of hope.

The death of loved ones often awakens the death inside of us.

The decision to be positive is not one that disregards or belittles the sadness that exists. It is rather a conscious choice to focus on the good and to cultivate happiness--genuine happiness. Happiness is not a limited resource. And when we devote our energy and time to trivial matters, and choose to stress over things that ultimately are insignificant. From that point, we perpetuate our own sadness, and we lose sight of the things that really make us happy and rationalize our way out of doing amazing things.

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potters oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirits the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

The deepest wretchedness often results from a perpetual continuation of petty trials.

The devil comes to steal, kill and destroy and his followers do the same. Be watchful and keep that in mind.

The devil doesn't always laugh. Sometimes, he weeps with you.

The digging continues ... Ground Zero it looks more and more like a construction site. Too much of the horror is gone. No fire. No smoke ... What was war becomes peace, becomes peaceful. But in the coil of my testicles there's an angry residue and in places I can't even name, places inside my throat and behind my chest, I'm sad, and sometimes worse than sad, less than sad, a cavity of empty.

The doctor was a frequent visitor at Miss Trumball's establishment, preferring it to the Lanchester house, whose girls had a saturnine disposition in his opinion, as if imported from Maine or other gloom-loving provinces.

The eyes of the sad souls become friends with shadows, not with lights!

The face of poverty is a mixture of sincerity and sadness!

The fact that Ridge has been honest in his conversations with me is not something he did wrong. The fact that he has feelings for me also isn’t wrong, when you know exactly how much he’s fought those feelings. People can’t control matters of the heart, Warren. They can only control their actions, which is exactly what Ridge did. He lost control once for ten seconds, but after that, every single time temptation reared its ugly head, he walked in the other direction. The only thing Ridge has done wrong is fail to delete his messages, because by doing so, he failed to protect Maggie. He failed to protect her from the harsh truth that people don’t get to choose who they fall in love with. They only get to choose who they stay in love with.” I look up at the ceiling and blink back tears. “He was choosing to stay in love with her, Warren. Why can’t she see that? This will kill him so much more than it’s killing her.

The Flash: I often come here to run and to think. But, today, I don’t want to think—I just want to run.

The fruit of empty hopes is more bitter than the saddest truth.

The fullness of life is wrapped in all sacred times: plenty and scarcity; happiness and sadness; planting and harvesting; sunrise and sunset; winter and springtime; summer and autumn; beginning and finishing; birth and death…!

The gloaming that closed over us the cemetery had crawled inside his skin.

The greater are our affections the deeper are our afflictions, and the more we love the more we have to weep.

The great pagan sadness of modern man is largely due to his premonition of ultimate disaster.

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

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 most beautiful things often stand alone.

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 mournfulness felt like a hand pressing on my chest.

Then, all but instinctively, I took her in my arms. Pressed against me, her whole body trembling, she continued to cry without a sound.

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.

Then all at once I'm crushed by sadness. Because I realised none of this is actually me or permanent or real. I don't belong here; I can't belong. It was only the alcohol that made me believe - for a brief moment - that I could.

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

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.