Best 321 quotes in «lost love quotes» category

Why is it you tell me the truth only when you've fallen asleep? It's then that you visit me.

Why nothing in this world Can bring a smile On my face? My life was lost on you And now, Without you. You were my healer, And now, The creator of pain!

Widowed were not those alive, but those who were dead.

Words never mean a thing if you don't know the lack of them, or sounds, or laughter, and it's the small moments of silence I value the most.

Yes. He was happy. He said, on that last visit, that some things were worth the wait. The world changes in unexpected ways, and all we can do is live in it and take joy in how it surprises us.

You - a sight for sore eyes, a touch of brush on canvas, an enclave on my wicked heart, a ludicrous perfect composition of selected words, of an unknown poet, such perfection, uniquely spread in a human being. (Excerpted from The runner, chapter Pain)

Without love, we are pointless. With it, we are infinite.

You can ignore the memories but you will always remember the feeling.

You can miss places. You can miss people. Just know that what you’re really missing is the way things were. And even if you could go there again…. see them again…. you can’t go back. They’re not the same. You’re not the same. The loss of them changed you.

With you in my life I felt like I could conquer anything. It was as if I was on top of the world and even the stars themselves were just within my grasp. But without you …. even getting through the day is hard.

You mean to tell me you're mourning the loss of someone who never existed?

You never know how hard it is to remember things and act like you forgot everything..

You only reveal your game plan when you know you're winning, or losing.

You never forget someone you've loved once.

You’re everything to me. But at best, I’m just a memory to you.

You're gone and you left me. My heart has dissipated. The only thing I can feel is the blood rushing through my veins and the strings that hold my fragile heart together.

Your memory feels like home to me. So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds it’s way back to you.

You said I was in love. You were right. But that never happened, either.

You selfish bitch!" She had known for a long time that putting her needs above those of Adam's wife and children was indeed selfish. She had no real answer to the accusation thrown at her. "I'm sorry" she said, with her head in her hands. "you're sorry?" came her adversary's disbelieving reply. "I am. I'm sorry he married you when he was in love with me. I'm sorry I couldn't have loved someone else. I'm sorry your marriage is a joke and I'm sorry that I'm alone. I'm sorry for a lot of things - for you, for your kids, for me and for him. I spend most of my time being sorry." For a moment there was silence at the end of the line. "all you had to do was stay away" "if only I could have." tears escaped and raced down her cheeks. "I hate you!

You shattered the remainder of my heart, yet you expect me to be okay with it day after day.

You told me mornings were the best time to break your own heart. So here I am, smoking your brand of cigarettes for the scent. I wonder if you still sing Beatles songs as you make coffee. You said your mother used to sing them to you when you couldn’t sleep, nineteen years before we met, twenty before you moved your clothes out of our closet while I was at work. By the way, I hate you for leaving all the photographs on the fridge. Taking them down felt like peeling off new scabs, like slapping a sunburn. I spent so many nights carving your body into pillows, I can promise you nothing feels like sleeping with your arm around me and your breath in my ear. Still, it’s comforting to know we sleep under the same moon, even if she’s so much older when she gets to me. I like to imagine she’s seen you sleeping and wants me to know you’re doing well.

You made me feel worthwhile…. like for once it mattered if I was here or not because I actually meant something to someone…. because I meant something to you. I miss that feeling.

Ain't no love lost, cause there was never none there.

A light heart lives long.

All love is lost but upon God alone.

And he hated himself and hated her,too, for the ruin they'd made of each other.

You're all we have left of him.

And there, in that phrase, the bitterness leaks again out of my pen. What a dull lifeless quality this bitterness is. If I could I would write with love, but if I could write with love I would be another man; I would never have lost love.

You were Something or someone I loved But I am a traveler And I love no one But the empty road

Anything that you give your attention to will become your "truth"... The Law of attraction says that it must. Your life and everyone else's too is but a reflection of the predominance of your thoughts. There is no exception to this.

... and I know it might sound crazy, but after all that, I still love you. You wanna come back in my life But now there is something I have to do. I have to tell the one that I once adored, that they can't have my love no more, 'cause my heart can't take no more lies, And my eyes are all out of cries.

Being young you have not known The fool's triumph, nor yet Love lost as soon as won, Nor the best labourer dead And all the sheaves to bind.

Any music star would be singing about his lost love. A movie would be about a relatable incident; it wasn't an untouchable magic dragon box. It was something that people could relate to, and when I vanished a girl, it would be a story about a girl that left me, or a cutting into pieces would be a date with a magician. I wouldn't just vanish a girl in a shower, I would do the shower scene from Psycho [1960] with a [Alfred] Hitchcock cameo.

But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.

But all good things come to an end, often a sad angry miserable end. The cause for such an end can usually be whittled down to one of three things: money, sickness, love lost.

Being remembered is all anyone can ask from a lost love.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away, A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray, Forget your woes and let your troubles lay, And when again it's morning, they'll wash away. Here it's safe, here it's warm, Here the daisies guard you from every harm, Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, Here is the place where I love you.

For those who may be hurting over lost love: Don't cry because it is over... smile because it happened.

I am a marvelous housekeeper. Every time I leave a man I keep his house.

How many times do we pay for one mistake? The answer is a thousand times for the same mistake. The human is the only animal on earth that pays a thousand times for ONE mistake. The rest of the animals pay once for every mistake.

If it wasn't for this person's privacy, I'd be able to talk pretty freely about this subject on a personal level. The record's about not her. It's about my struggles through years of dealing with the aftermath of lost love and longing and just mediocrity and just bad news, like life stuff. And in the [record], where the title comes from, the lyrics are actually a conversation between me and another girl, not this Emma character.

If we need to be reminded to love one another, then we have already lost sight of the very essence of our existence.

I just like to sing for people who have lost love.

If it is the mark of the artist to love art before everything, to renounce everything for its sake, to think all the sweet human things of life well lost if only he may attain something, do some good, great work, then I was never an artist.

I love to play; a stage is a safe place for me to be. It's not that way for most folks, but I'd be lost without it.

I like to write about love and love lost because I feel like there are so many different subcategories of emotions.

I love the script and I just thought it was a great role. Like I say, it's like this - the script is like this sad, funny, desperate love song to the lost American man.

It is lost, lovely child, somewhere in the ragbag that I laughingly refer to as my memory.

I think he became a man who brought peace and wisdom to hi world, because he knew about war and folly. I think that he loved greatly, because he had seen what lost love is. And I think he came to know, too, that he was loved greatly." She looked at the strawberry in her hands. "But I thought you didn't want me to tell you your future.

It's easy to get wrapped up in sharing everyday life with a partner. It's fun to get lost in love and romance. It's the best. But holding on to yourself while doing that is the most important thing.