Best 120 quotes in «bittersweet quotes» category

Stoker to Veronica. I thought it was love but I was so very wrong. I have never known love at least not until..... I thought at some point I would have a great love like that. A woman fashioned by the gods just for me as I had been made just for her. That we would find each other. That she was waiting for me but I did not wait for her. I married a base metal when the gods had  promised me gold.

The girl must be looking for another hot-fudge shower," Ellen said. Then she, too, advanced on Leesha.

The chilling thought occurred to me that breaking up with someone you love to criticize might be the only way to save yourself from becoming unlovable

The hope in her voice now made me think of a flower growing in shadow.

We weren’t that different after all, our souls laden with the same ache of loss, our hearts bursting with the same longing to save what remained of all we loved.

The machines of this place are failing, and the woman and I are here all alone. The perpetual motion engine, as brilliant and beautiful as it is, is running down—nothing lasts forever. But before this little world falls out of the sky there still might be time enough for redemption. There is still time for me to say the words that I should have had the courage to say at the beginning. There is still time, perhaps, for one more miracle. Hello, Miranda.

The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had, just enough time.

The two of us are lIke sunshine and the rain. Together... We are the wellspring of all life. But between us, there will will bloom no flowers. We shall bear no fruit. For us, all of time... Shall be evergreen. "And that's fine. I will be here always. To you... I give eternity." Hotaka

Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown days, each far too little and yet too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer, with that bittersweet release lingering in the doorway, but never quite being sent all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place.” ― Connie Kerbs

Victory is always bittersweet.

Was it always to be like this? she wondered. A moment of joy followed by a new sorrow?

We are nothing but shadows Fading away Trying to hold on to This bittersweet life That we call our own...

We looked into one another's eyes, and I think we both knew in that instant that the past was behind us. We could never be to each other what we had been once.

We wander in our thousands over the face of the earth, the illustrious and the obscure, earning beyond the seas our fame, our money, or only a crust of bread; but it seems to me that for each of us going home must be like going to render an account. We return to face our superiors, our kindred, our friends--those whom we obey, and those whom we love; but even they who have neither, the most free, lonely, irresponsible and bereft of ties,--even those for whom home holds no dear face, no familiar voice,--even they have to meet the spirit that dwells within the land, under its sky, in its air, in its valleys, and on its rises, in its fields, in its waters and its trees--a mute friend, judge, and inspirer.

We were in ways I can’t seem to grasp. We moved like fluid, scattering our love throughout each other. We moved along, out of our eyes and through our veins. It was unintentionally and in turn, unconditionally.

...the remembrance even of joy having its bitterness, and the memories of pleasure their pain.

...the sweetness of grace and freedom comes hand in hand with the uncomfortable, bitter-rawness of honest emotions and grief.

Time never touched you. It touched me and then I seemed to regret everything. Your hair in my face, eyes in my mind, a darkness I found in you. But you don’t regret. You hold within. You feel in memory because love lost is still a love once had. You remember passion, conversations over dinner, moments interwoven before each other. We die to live, not die to cry over memories which don’t last our expected timeframe.

Well, then, what's the plan now? You can't stay here forever.' My plan was indeed to stay there forever.

We wander in our thousands over the face of the earth, the illustrious and the obscure, earning beyond the seas our fame, our money, or only a crust of bread; but it seems to me that for each of us going home must be like going to render an account.

We were both smiling, in that bittersweet way one does when imagining something the heart longs for and the head would dread.

What I used to be will pass away and then you'll see That all I want now is happiness for you and me

You cannot drink the nectar of love without bleeding for its thorns.

When Life is Well say THANK YOU & CELEBRATE, and when life is Bitter say THANK YOU & GROW.

You are the beautiful half of a golden hurt.

With you I'd dance in the rain in my best dress, fearless

You are the illness I will never cure. You are the poem I will never write. You are the thought I will never finish. You are the text I will never read.

You'ld think I'ld be used to saying good bye to you by now.

You expect certain things to always be there, like the bakery on the corner, or the boy you grew up with. But when the very ground can eat you alive without warning, what's to say the ocean won't dry up? Or the stars won't suddenly shut off? Nothing is forever.

After 30 novels, release day is still a thrill. Its always a little bittersweet, too.

Clearly it is not the lovelorn sufferer who seeks solace in chocolate, but rather the chocolate-deprived individual, who, desperate, seeks in mere love a pale approximation of bittersweet euphoria.

At my age, you not only have bittersweet memories, you make bittersweet plans.

I love that feeling of when it's touching and it makes you happy but there's a melancholy or bittersweet glaze to it.

Having more exposure is kind of a bittersweet thing for me, honestly, because it's nice to have a little more job security in life now.

I believe love is bittersweet, especially young love.

Every reader should ask himself periodically “Toward what end, toward what end?”—but do not ask it too often lest you pass up the fun of programming for the constipation of bittersweet philosophy.

If you begin to face your fears, something bittersweet is going to happen to you: You'll grow up.

I guess bittersweet is probably my favorite tone, as a lover of Woody Allen and Federico Fellini and the French New Wave. You know, old Hollywood, sad movies. I guess it's my picture of suburban life, a lot of it being very, very lonely. I wanted to have that infused into the feeling of it.

It's quite highly possible that I have peaked. I mean, I just can't imagine what else I could do beyond this. It's really a bittersweet kind of feeling.

In life, there are those relationships where you really love someone, but they're just not right for you and there's a little bittersweet feel to it.

I was raped by a doctor. Which is, you know, so bittersweet for a Jewish girl.

Life is bittersweet. Inside our heads, if we're lucky, we're the same kids as we were when we were young.

My style of comedy is very real and bittersweet, and sort of always on the verge of kind of being tragic.

Mab Jones' poetry is suffused with a cool wit and a wisdom beyond her years. She is a superb performance poet in the tradition of Joolz Denby and Pam Ayres and, like them, her work is beautifully layered and contains bittersweet depths.

Love - bittersweet, irrepressible - loosens my limbs and I tremble.

There's always a bittersweet kind of thing, but I feel like everything had to work out the way it is. Everything that had to happen, happened.

Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.

That she was irreplaceable became a bittersweet loyalty: Her death was what I had now instead of her.

The life, when we're aware of beauty, is kind of a bittersweet thing, it's a transient reminder of eternal beauty, which someday we will be face to face with.

And as Sean climbs into bed and closes his eyes, Mother comes, riding astride a lion the size of a house, blowing a clarion from a horn made out of a hollowed-out elephant's tusk. Her eyes have a faint crimson glow from the lasers that are mounted behind her irises, ready to fire at will. 'I touched a prince's chest today and made his heart stop,' she says. 'I'll do it again if I have to: they'll see what happens if anyone gets in my way. Good night, my son. Remember that I will always keep you safe; that I am always everywhere and always here.' 'Good night, Mom,' Sean says, and falls asleep. And Mother recedes, wise and beautiful and strong, a genius and a hero, a punisher of thieves and a slayer of wicked men, to watch over her son in all her different versions.