Best 2955 quotes in «sadness quotes» category

If you cannot hold me in your arms, then hold my memory in high regard. And if I cannot be in your life, then at least let me live in your heart.

If you can't tell your story to another human, find another way: journal, paint, make your grief into a graphic novel with a very dark storyline. Or go out to the woods and tell the trees. It is an immense relief to be able to tell your story without someone trying to fix it. The trees will not ask, "How are you really?" and the wind doesn't care if you cry.

If you choose to be sad then you will be sad but there times you don't know why you're sad. Tears start flowing from your eyes.

If you feel loneliness, it means I am with you.

If you have never known happiness and sorrow, then you have not fully experience life.

If you knew every cranny of my heart you would yet be ignorant of the pain my happy memories bring

If you love something, set it free. If it doesn’t come back, it probably died of sadness because it thought you loved it.

if you love someone so much and they love you as the same dont let go of them fite for them showem how you true feel no lies no bs but if they are not worth it then leave and find your happiness

If your anger is the result of your sadness or if your sadness is result of your anger , you are undoubtedly suffering from disorientation.

If you really lose the will, and there's no copy of you to do , in your possession if you realize that no one does it like you then you have all the will

If you're stuck in a puddle, it means there's higher ground all around you, you just have to step onto it.

If you’re searching for a quote that puts your feelings into words – you won’t find it. You can learn every language and read every word ever written – but you’ll never find what’s in your heart. How can you? He has it.

If your tears have lost the ability to hide your pain... why shedding them?

If you see me standing on my head, I'm trying to cheer you up with my frown. I need my honesty, you my pleasantry.

If you want to be strong, smile! He who can smile, even when he's so sad that he wants to die, when it's so painful that he wants to give it all up and run away, is the one who becomes strong.

If you want to know how negative you are, pay attention to how much you hate negativity in other people. Fragile, artificial positivity needs always to be surrounded by more positivity in order to stay positive, but the ability to be positive, happy, and even, at times, appreciative around 'negative people' is the mark of real positivity.

If you want to see the beauty of any fish, throw it into the water, you will see how best it can swim because that is its source. Do you want to see the beauty in you? Don't look in the mirror, don't put on makeups, no jewelleries or expensive designer clothes, just go back and reconnect to your source and I bet, the best of you will show up. Until you return back to God, your best won't come out because He is your source.

I gave her love she gave me words to write

I give myself up to darkness; and wish I may never again be required to lift my head to the light.

I gave up the unequal struggle against what appeared to be in my fate, indeed, I welcomed it with more affection. As one embraces a foe one can't defeat and I felt liberated.

I gave him my heart without thinking how it would feel if he returned it.

I gave in to sadness because I had no choice.

I glanced at Marcus’s grave, and my gaze wandered to the blood-red rose. It wasn’t blood-red, or beautiful anymore. Mud and murk had spoiled its fragile beauty and mutilated it into a miserable gray object, disfigured beyond recognition, tarnished, and misshapen, soon to be devoured by the murky ground that surrounded it. It was no longer a symbol of hope and innocence. It was an omen; a harbinger of death and destruction. And I was truly terrified of it.

I got a monster within . . . my own self !

I go about saying how pained and tormented, how lonely and sad I feel, but what do I really mean by that? If I were to speak the truth, I would die.

I guess...I just want someone to love me and take me for who I am.

I guess it's better to have a chalk smile, than an ink smile. Where chalk changes with the direction of wind, ink stays as a deep stain. Like rain, sun and hail against a fake plant.

I guess to their wide, innocent eyes it all seemed like normal family life because they had never known any different. In fact, I was the only one who had lived with anyone else, the only one that realized that life didn't have to be this terrifying and this painful all the time

I get so god damn lonely and sad and filled with regrets some days. It overwhelms me as I’m sitting on the bus; watching the golden leaves from a window; a sudden burst of realisation in the middle of the night. I can’t help it and I can’t stop it. I’m alone as I’ve always been and sometimes it hurts…. but I’m learning to breathe deep through it and keep walking. I’m learning to make things nice for myself. To comfort my own heart when I wake up sad. To find small bits of friendship in a crowd full of strangers. To find a small moment of joy in a blue sky, in a trip somewhere not so far away, a long walk an early morning in December, or a handwritten letter to an old friend simply saying ”I thought of you. I hope you’re well.” No one will come and save you. No one will come riding on a white horse and take all your worries away. You have to save yourself, little by little, day by day. Build yourself a home. Take care of your body. Find something to work on. Something that makes you excited, something you want to learn. Get yourself some books and learn them by heart. Get to know the author, where he grew up, what books he read himself. Take yourself out for dinner. Dress up for no one but you and simply feel nice. it’s a lovely feeling, to feel pretty. You don’t need anyone to confirm it. I get so god damn lonely and sad and filled with regrets some days, but I’m learning to breathe deep through it and keep walking. I’m learning to make things nice for myself. Slowly building myself a home with things I like. Colors that calm me down, a plan to follow when things get dark, a few people I try to treat right. I don’t sometimes, but it’s my intent to do so. I’m learning.I’m learning to make things nice for myself. I’m learning to save myself. I’m trying, as I always will.

I had that hole in me, that empty space. I could have lived my life with it, content enough. I wasn’t an unhappy man.”..................... The tears came now. He watched them drip down her cheeks, wondered if she were even aware they leaked out of her. “She was part of my life. You are my life. If I have a regret, it’s that even for an instant you could think otherwise. Or that I allowed you to.” -Roarke

I had watched the sun blaze and in the blink of an eye slip away; the happiness I felt in that moment was a heartbeat from tipping to sadness at the knowledge that I couldn't hold it forever. My old familiar push-pull, my trademark yearning for and resisting joy.

I hate the sound of the world outside. Because everybody here can't wait to come and say goodbye...

I have a horrid scar right under my left knee from you. Well, the absence of you. Seems appropriate. But I still miss you. My pillowcase smells like you, so I bury my face in it and breathe it in. Things feel empty. My couch, my living room, my heart. I see pictures of things. Silly things, beautiful things, and I want to share them with you. But alas, I cannot, I do not, I press the red button when you call.

I hate the way the world feels when love is gone

I had someone once who made every day mean something. And now…. I am lost…. And nothing means anything anymore.

I hate sadness. Anything is better than sadness. Even feeling nothing.

I have always wanted to go to Trieste because it sounds like tristesse, which is a light-hearted word, even though in French it means sadness. In Spanish it is tristeza, which is heavier than French sadness, more of a groan than a whisper.

I have always been sensitive to vibrations and energies. Sometimes, I meet people and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I know that person is just wrong somehow. That their wiring is different, their moral compass screwed.

I have cried over myself a hundred times this summer, she thought, I have wept over my big feet and my skinny legs and my nose, I have even cried over my stupid shoes, and now when I have true sadness there are no tears left.

I have cried your name in every possible colour

I have emotions 
that are like newspapers that 
read themselves. I go for days at a time
 trapped in the want ads. I feel as if I am an ad
 for the sale of a haunted house: 18 rooms
 $37,000 
I'm yours
 ghosts and all.

I have learned that when sadness comes to visit me, all I can do is say “I see you.” I spend some time with it, get up, and say goodbye. I don’t push it away, I own it. And because I own it, I let it go.

I have been poisoned in your love and now I need antidote Jacqueline.L.J! <3

I have been sadder than any man could be: for nothing in the world was made for me.

I have many an hour been pained that my investigation raises questions about so many things on which good, pious people have placed all their trust. I have remembered old friends, kind listeners, children of God both known and unknown to me, who might see my work. However, I have been unable to alter anything here.

I have never been scared of the darkness, not even a little bit. In the dark you hear nothing but the truth, you see nothing but real faces and naked souls. On the contrary I’ve always been afraid of the light, where people talk about everything but never say a thing and wear a fake skin; because they do know that there is an eyes watching or judging them here or there …

I have no words to express my sadness, grief, and frustration. I never thought Bengali people could do such a heinous and atrocious thing. My heart goes out to those innocent victims and their families.

I have to go home, Masi. You are my home, bella. I am lost without you. He couldn’t speak. There were no words to recoil the loss consuming him. Massimo brought his hands up to her face. Kissing her one last time. He had to for his sanity. And he did with great passion, knowing he’d hurt her face when she kissed him back. But she did. He heard the cry in her throat as their tongues danced. Warm tears touched his palms as they continued to kiss. His fingertips were wet with sadness. He kept on kissing her. Unable to stop, he needed ten more seconds. Ti amo, I love you. Please don’t leave. I’ve waited my whole life for you. When he pulled his face back, she cried, and he realized he did also.

I haven’t seen my family in five years Everything I drink tastes like my own tears

I have poured my heart out …. And now I am empty.