Best 2955 quotes in «sadness quotes» category

Every month there is a moon, gigantic, round, heavy, an omen. IT transits, pauses, continues on and passes out of sight, and I see despair coming towards me like famine. To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time.

Everyone knows that sadness and grief are the price of admission for the experiences of joy and connection.

Everyone I say stop bullying it is sad and tears someones heart apart and next thing they do is Suicide because they think that is the right next step! If you are a Person who gets bullied find someone who will stop this! Don't just kill yourself for the other person to be happy because you are gone! They are just jealous of you and want to start problems and make you a troublemaker! Ignore those mean cruel evil people in you life and spend time with the nice caring sweet loving angels of yours! :D Because bullying is a dumb and stupid waste of time! Try to shake it off the mean hurtful stuff and keep on doing the right stuff that is going to help you become a better person and when i say a better person i mean more than a better person! ~Skye Daphne~

Everyone has it's own great triumph, has he own story with sadness, madness and reverses. That's how we are build, few are the people which share their story, most cases because of shame.

Everyone dies alone, Eragon. Whether you are a king on a battlefield or a lowly peasant lying in bed among your family, no one can accompany you into the void.

Everyone was trying to forget something, but they could never seem to find the way to do it. All they ever seemed to do was make it worse. Such quiet madness, the masses led.

Everyone’s pain is different,” Reece went on. “I don’t like when people compare. I don’t like when people marginalize their feelings because they think they’re not allowed to have them. Someone will always have a tougher go than you. Does that mean you’re not allowed to feel hurt? To be sad?

Everyone tells you it's all right to cry, but not enough people say it's all right if you don't want people to know.

Every second of every minute or every minute of every hour or every hour of every day carries the potential of bringing you either sadness or happiness!

Every single day I find it hard to say I could be yours alone You will see someday That all along the way I was yours to hold.

Everything at the moment, my dear, no doubt seems disgusting. I know the mood too well. But being in that mood, Ross, is like being out in the frost. If we do not keep on the move we shall perish.

Everything hurts until you become good at hurting everything around too.

Everything I've ever known is death and pain; being drenched in life feels good.

(…) everything is finite. Life. Love. All this.' (…) 'Sadness too. Although that's harder to let go of than happiness.

Everything she heard, everything she saw seemed to be in disagreement with her own manner of understanding and feeling. To her, the sun did not appear red enough, the nights pale enough, the skies deep enough. Her fleeting conception of things and beings condemned her fatally to a perversion of her senses, to vagaries of the spirit and left her nothing but the torment of an unachieved longing, the torture of unfulfilled desires.

Everything seems different now. The room I am in looks no more familiar to me than it did this morning when I woke up and stumbled into it, trying to find the kitchen, desperate for a drink of water, desperate to piece together what happened last night. And yet it no longer seems shot through with pain, and sadness. It no longer seems emblematic of a life I cannot consider living. The ticking of the clock at my shoulder is no longer just marking time. It speaks to me. Relax, it says. Relax, and take what comes.

Everything we come across becomes a part of us. It doesn't matter how small or insignificant it is…or how devastating. One story here, one story there, that’s what I see when I look back at my life. An accumulation of everything I went through.

Everything that drowned me taught me how to swim.

Every time he left, I shattered apart.

Every time I tried kissing happiness, it came very close to me and then pushed me away.

Exageras tudo e, por certo, cometes pelo menos o erro de aceitar o suicídio, que é do que estamos falando agora, como se fosse uma grande ação, quando não é nada mais do que simplesmente fraqueza. Pois, para ser sincero, é mais fácil morrer do que suportar com firmeza uma vida de tormentos.

Falling apart is great—it's the only chance you get to put yourself back together however you want.

Expect more get less and feel sadness Or expect less get more and feel happiness

Faith is never connected to safe. There is no faith without tension. For a rubber band to function to it's elasticity, it has to experience a tension. Saints of God who has no tension has no function.

Feeling like I have thorns on my body everywhere, That's by nobody want to stay in my life, They just come and leave me by saying you are everything I can wish for but they need time to be sure and after that they disappear and never come back !!

Fear and anxiety and sadness are not necessarily always undesirable or unhelpful states of mind; rather, they are often representatives of the necessary pain of psychological growth. And to deny that pain is to deny our own potential. ...If you just chase after highs to cover up the pain, if you continue to indulge in entitlement and delusional positive thinking, if you continue to overindulge in various substances or activities, then you'll never generate the requisite motivation to actually change.

Fear and anxiety and sadness are not necessarily always undesirable or unhelpful states of mind; rather, they are often representatives of the necessary pain of psychological growth. And to deny that pain is to deny our own potential.

Fellas stop being blinded by the big asses and cute faces. Some men are so concern in having a “bad bitch” where they end up broke, and miserable Becuz their busy trying to impress a bad bitch. A bad bitch will cheat on you a REAL WOMAN gone hold it down take care of her own and chase her goals an educated, strong woman, she’s not concerned about how much money you have although you should be on your shit yourself. STOP GOING FOR A WOMAN THAT ONLY JOB SHE HAS IS WAKING UP TO LOOK GOOD AND POST HER ASS ON SOCIAL MEDIA AND THEN GOING BACK TO SLEEP!

Fermina Daza había rechazado a Florentino Ariza en un destello de madurez que pagó de inmediato con una crisis de lástima, pero nunca dudó de que su decisión había sido certera.

Figure out what makes you laugh, and do more of it. Figure out what makes you cry, and do less of it.

Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but 'steal' some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.

Flowery tongues have thorny throats.

Fear is like a megaphone in your head that pulses aggression and sadness. Hope is the audio gain adjuster. Happiness is the musical algorithm.

Folk gråter för litet, visste de hur mycket de borde gråta skulle de aldrig sluta, börjar man gråta finns det inget slut på det.

For a brokenhearted person memories are the vital parts of misery

For a couple of days he was nice and I was on cloud number 9,damn they don’t teach how to come down from there instead leave us to gravity.

For a long time I spent my weary days in a fog of what might be and what has been and I guess you could say im still learning how to accept what is.

For a few seconds Maria did not move, or even breathe, apparently. Then she gave a sorrowful gulp and, like all little girls, even those who speak to fantastical wild boars and mercurial horses, she collapsed in desperate sobs, of the kind that come so easily to a twelve-year-old, and so hard to a person of forty.

For all her culture's attention to the physical, it seemingly has little to salve the creatural anguish of losing someone else's body, their touch, their heat, their oceanic heart...she doesn't want another body, she wants the body she loved, the forceps scar across his cheek that she traced with her hand, his penis, its elegant sweep to the side, the preternaturally soft skin. One wants what one has loved, not the idea of love.

For a while she cried silently until she tired herself out and the overwhelming feeling of sleepiness overcame her. The room around her was fairly silent, although she wasn’t the only one crying herself to sleep. It was quite common at places like this to hear cries in the dark. There were so many saddened and lonesome souls around her. It was usually at night when they were reminded of just how sad and lonely they actually were.

For a moment, she thought she was crying too. But then she realised she was just humming. Finally, she could hear the farm. A snippet of a song played in her head. One of the songs she always heard blasting over the farm’s loudspeakers. A song about summer days under the sun. She could really hear it. She could feel the warm, sultry air on her skin, and she wasn’t cold anymore. The air was always yellow at the farm. Golden yellow.

For certain, neither of them sees a happy Present, as the gate opens and closes, and one goes in, and the other goes away.

For each door of sadness that opens, there are a thousand means of shutting it...

For everyone who never smiled in school photos, for all who’ve wandered city streets not knowing the where they were or feeling alone, I’ve packed kindness.

Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.

Forgetting who you are is so much more complicated than simply forgetting your name. It's also forgetting your dreams. Your aspirations. What makes you happy. What you pray you'll never have to live without. It's meeting yourself for the first time, and not being sure of your first impression.

Forget him. Forget him.

Forgiveness is a transformative act because it asks you to be a more empathetic and compassionate person, thereby making you better than the person you were when you were first hurt.

For how long would I be trapped in the condition of melancholy without going insane?

For he was the Fool now, all of Lord Chance and Lady Amber and Lord Golden scraped away by sorrow. He was no one's Beloved now.