Best 149 quotes in «heartbreaking quotes» category

I love you, Susie.” “She rolled her eyes. “Save it.” “I haven’t given you much reason to believe it, but it’s true. I love you. I’ve loved you for so long I can’t imagine ever not loving you. When I saw you struggling to breathe yesterday, I was reminded again that a life without you is no life at all. So you don’t have to be civil. You don’t even have to talk to me, but I’m going to talk to you. I hope you’ll listen.

I’m mistaken…. for thinking you were someone with a heart worth breaking.

I'm not a princess This ain't a fairy tale I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet Lead her up a stairwell This ain't Hollywood This is a small town I was a dreamer before you went and let me down Now it's too late for you and your white horse to come around

I must confess, I honestly & intensely dislike emotion. Its a messy human default.

I realized I was afraid of living without him. How is it you have the right to destroy my life, I wanted to demand of him, but I’m not allowed a say in yours?

Is this how love should be? When you love a person so much it breaks and tears your heart apart?

Ishq Karoge to dard Milega.....!!

I set off, off to kill the man I loved.

Is this what she would have wanted, Hawke?" Ronan asked quietly. "Justice at the cost of an innocent man and his child?

It didn’t hurt me. Not “hurt”. Hurt is a four letter word. It’s short, almost cute sounding. Aawwww, did that hurt? No. It didn’t hurt. Destroyed, Obliterated, Desecrated, Annihilated, Demolished, Shattered, or Demoralised maybe… But no. It didn’t hurt me. It didn’t “hurt” me at all.

I've gone with you as far as I can. I'll be waiting for you.

I understood why women went back to their abusers. The monster wasn't your real husband, he was a bad dream - an alien of sorts - who took over the spirit of your beloved one. He entered and left your husband. It was your real love you welcomed back in.

I want my husband to not be possibly falling in love with another woman.

I wanted to let you go, so I held you a little closer.

I want to burn the world because Alan is gone," he said. "I want to destroy everything I see. But you mean something to me. I will not destroy the world, because it has you in it.

Love has made him surprise himself. He would never have believed it possible, but it's turned out that he is a man who can walk up to a closed door on a murky November day, wearing his one good suit, and knock without hesitation, waiting while the rain comes down around him, even though he's not wanted. He can do this and not think twice, just the way he can spend hours watching a wounded cedar beetle and weep over its rare beauty, as well as its agony. Richard is certain that other species fall in love - primates, of course, and canines - but he has wondered about his beetles. There are people who would surely get a chuckle out of the mere suggestion, but in Richard's opinion it's pure vanity to presume that love exists only on our terms. A red leaf may be the universe for the tortoise beetle or the ladybird. A single touch the ecstasy of a lifetime. And so, here he is, in love despite everything. It is he, stupider than any beetle, and far more obstinate, who has traveled three thousand miles, even though he fully expects to be turned away.

Lo decía en serio. Esa promesa le quemaba el corazón

I watched you try on suits in Hugo Boss.‘For the big job,’ you said. And I laughed, because I knew I would never see it. I’d never get up and watch you put it on and walk out of the door. I would never be the one that you came home to.

Michael grew silent, his gaze softening as he looked from me to Will, and a dim light of hope flickered in my heart. “You would mourn for him.” “Yes, I said. “I would mourn him forever with a broken heart. This human soul has given me so many blessings and curses. I’m the only one of our kind who has ever felt the most perfect happiness and the truest sorrow - because of this soul. My love for my Guardian is one of those blessings. It’s not a curse.” “You can,” I promised. “Please trust me. I need all the help I can get, and that includes yours. If you kill my Guardian, then I will never forgive you. I can’t be at war with you too. Please, please, Michael, my brother. Don’t kill him. … A tear caught on the edge of my lips. “Do you love me as your sister?” His mouth opened to reply, but nothing came out. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re worried about me, because you love me. Don’t be afraid of feeling anything. our Father made us this way. He wouldn’t make a mistake.” “I…,” Michael said, and emotion spilled over his face. His brow furrowed with exhaustion and he seemed overwhelmed by what he felt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. “You are my sister, Gabriel.” “Then don’t do this.” I begged him. He was quiet again for several agonising moments, returning to his emotionless state. “Keep him. I have faith in you, Sister. Will and I breathed sighs of relief, but it was a few seconds before Michael withdrew his sword. His expression remained unchanging as he lifted Will’s death warrant.

My beautiful swan. My savior and my undoing.

Por favor, Dios, por favor me quedaré con el dolor, sólo no me lleves. No quiero morir. No me separes de Harper y de nuestro bebé…

My Zoe. “You did right,” I tell her. “You’re better than I could ever be, you know that? ’Cause you do the right thing.” “You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re an angel. And you know—” I make a grasping, chesty sound. “You know fucking everything and … everything, about me. And you still love me, don’t you?” She nods. Then she flings herself into my lap. “I’m sorry,” she chokes. “You want to save me. Bad as I want to save you. I know about that.” - Will

Now mine eyes see the heart that once we did search for, and I fear this heart shall be mended, nevermore.

One truth that has helped me accept some of the most difficult moments and heartbreaking decisions in my life is that I already have all for which I ask. I am blessed! I am delivered from my worries!

Push yourself. Don’t Settle. Just live well. Just LIVE. Love, Will

She smirks."Are you attempting to stop me, little one?" "Excuse me? Did you just call me 'little one'? What are you? Like, four feet tall?" I ask.

River smiled sweetly at his tormentors and told them, "If you want to kick my ass, go ahead. Just explain to me why you're doing it." After a confused pause, one of the skinheads said, "Ah, you wouldn't be worth it." "We're all worth it, man," River said with a beatific smile. "We're all worth millions of planets and stars and galaxies and universes.

She felt him shifting himself under her and around her, rearranging himself, until she was being held in a real embrace. She opened blurring eyes to find that he had tucked her between his forelegs with his neck curled around her. "Shhh-" he said, as she closed her eyes and threw her arms around his warm, soft, slippery neck. "I know, I know. It's all horrible. Just go ahead and cry, Andie. Go ahead and let it out. I think you've been holding it in too long." She couldn't have stopped the flood now if she'd wanted to, and she really didn't want to. He was right. She'd been holding it in too long. She sobbed against his neck, eyes streaming and burning, throat raw and sore, chest aching. She babbled between the sobs, nothing really coherent, but just- She'd wanted a mother. She'd wanted to make Cassiopeia proud of her so that she'd 'be' that mother. Show her that even her if her daughter wasn't like 'her,' she was still worth something. Was useful. Could stand at the Queen's side and- That was all she wanted. And her mother found her so unworthy that Cassiopeia threw her away to feed a monster, like so much offal. "Oh, Andie," Peri sighed in her ear. "Oh, my poor girl. It's Cassiopeia that's unworthy of 'you.

She found it easier to forgive than Ove did. Forgive God and the universe and everything. Ove got angry instead. Maybe because he felt someone had to be angry on her behalf, when everything that was evil seemed to assail the only person he'd ever met who didn't deserve it.

She liked this. Liked the closeness. With lover’s she’d taken in the past, things had been short and sweet. She certainly hadn’t stuck about to snuggle in case they started to get ideas, not after the first time. Killing a guy you’d fucked was one thing, but to kill one you’d snuggled with damn near broke a girl’s heart

She’s got this dreamy look going—her everything’s-right-with-the-world-why-isn’t-it-right-with-you-Tally? face. It’s such a carryover from high school that I almost laugh.

She wears it so beautifully doesn’t she, her pain… Always smiling, always positive…. always happy to help… It’s like a garment perfectly tailored to fit the way she carries it… with a touch of grace… and the quietness of that sad smile…. All so you’d never know how heavy it really was.

Sam: I wanted to answer, but I was broken.

Taking Halia's hand into his, Luka rubbed it nervously before speaking, "You said fire was wild with colour, that it grows quickly, needing to be stopped... That it's destructive, dangerous, and beautiful at the same time. Which made me realise, we are the fire." Halia pulled her hand away from him with her response, "If only you'd understood the fire. It was a spark that you ignited but you chose to burn me instead.

So I can’t explain why, for the next twenty minutes, I stand at the window quietly willing him with my mind to come inside and erase the distance between us.

The first one is always the hardest.

Tell me you love me Emma. Even if you don't mean it." -Julian Blackthorn

The fact that Simon Snow is the most powerful mage alive. That nothing can hurt him, not even me. That Simon Snow is alive. And I'm hopelessly in love with him.

The lines of her face, turned up to the sky, would have broken your heart.

The missing remained missing and the portraits couldn't change that. But when Akhmed slid the finished portrait across the desk and the family saw the shape of that beloved nose, the air would flee the room, replaced by the miracle of recognition as mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, and cousin found in that nose the son, brother, nephew, and cousin that had been, would have been, could have been, and they might race after the possibility like cartoon characters dashing off a cliff, held by the certainty of the road until they looked down -- and plummeted is the word used by the youngest brother who, at the age of sixteen, is tired of being the youngest and hopes his older brother will return for many reasons, not least so he will marry and have a child and the youngest brother will no longer be youngest; that youngest brother, the one who has nothing to say about the nose because he remembers his older brother's nose and doesn't need the nose to mean what his parents need it to mean, is the one who six months later would be disappeared in the back of a truck, as his older brother was, who would know the Landfill through his blindfold and gag by the rich scent of clay, as his older brother had known, whose fingers would be wound with the electrical wires that had welded to his older brother's bones, who would stand above a mass grave his brother had dug and would fall in it as his older brother had, though taking six more minutes and four more bullets to die, would be buried an arm's length of dirt above his brother and whose bones would find over time those of his older brother, and so, at that indeterminate point in the future, answer his mother's prayer that her boys find each other, wherever they go; that younger brother would have a smile on his face and the silliest thought in his skull a minute before the first bullet would break it, thinking of how that day six months earlier, when they all went to have his older brother's portrait made, he should have had his made, too, because now his parents would have to make another trip, and he hoped they would, hoped they would because even if he knew his older brother's nose, he hadn't been prepared to see it, and seeing that nose, there, on the page, the density of loss it engendered, the unbelievable ache of loving and not having surrounded him, strong enough to toss him, as his brother had, into the summer lake, but there was nothing but air, and he'd believed that plummet was as close as they would ever come again, and with the first gunshot one brother fell within arms' reach of the other, and with the fifth shot the blindfold dissolved and the light it blocked became forever, and on the kitchen wall of his parents' house his portrait hangs within arm's reach of his older brother's, and his mother spends whole afternoons staring at them, praying that they find each other, wherever they go.

Then I’m suddenly reminded of how I get engulfed with nightmares of Mom’s death as soon as I fall asleep. Hesitantly, I call to him, “Hey, Adrian?” “Yeah?” “Can you hold my hand the entire night?” My voice comes out as a quiet whisper. There’s a pause. I’m almost afraid to meet his eyes. Heartbeat picking up faster, his fingers interweave with mine and lace them together. I turn almost reflexively and I’m faced with his eyes—burning so green that it’s hard to look away. And for a second—one second, there is this feeling that flits in my chest, making my breath catch. Then his eyes close and I blink slowly—feeling as I’m in a dream-like trance. Then mine slide close too after a while of memorizing this moment, this moment of silent peacefulness. The gentle pressure of his hand holding mine coaxes me into sleep. This time, there’s only a soothing blankness. And we sleep just like that; backs curved together, my head folded in his chest. As we hold hands, I fall into the awaiting darkness.

Then tell me Mark, how can I do it? How do I watch her life fade everyday but not hurt? How do I continue to breath, when I know she takes one less breath everyday? Why Mark, Why is this happening to someone so precious?

The steel door of the incinerator went up and the muted hum of the eternal fire became a red roaring. The heat lunged out at them like a famished beast. Then Rahel's Ammu was fed to it. Her hair, her skin, her smile. Her voice. They way she used Kipling to love her children before putting them to bed: We be of one blood, though and I. Her goodnight kiss. The way she held their faces steady with one hand (squashed-cheeked, fish-mouthed) while she parted and combed their hair with the other. The way she held knickers out for Rahel to climb into. Left leg, right leg. All this was fed to the beast, and it was satisfied. She was their Ammu and their Baba and she had loved them Double.

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.

There is nothing more heartbreaking than to see the woman you love, the one woman you would do anything to protect, is the woman who is afraid of you. It broke his heart.

There comes a point where you no longer care if there’s a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You’re just sick of the tunnel.

The worst feelings are the warm, anxious burning that portends your heart breaking followed by the wave of numbness that asphyxiates your soul.

They slept huddled together in the rank quilts in the dark and the cold. He held the boy close to him. So thin. My heart, he said. My heart.

Today, I know what death is. Why do I know what death is, Kaladin?

What's suffering?