Best 321 quotes in «lost love quotes» category

At first, I was lost in you, but now you're lost on me.

A true love is never defeated. Even when in ashes, it whirls and finds solace with air

A year ago… Eighteen months ago even but not now! Don’t you realise that this is too little too late?” She shook her head in frustration. “It’s like putting a band-aid on an amputation!

beneath the stars that drift; she sighed and said "Every tale of a love can only be a tale of ghosts that linger in these spaces we can never hold,"—as the wind gave echo

Cesar knew better. He did. And love. Love just makes a man weak. A woman, a child—doesn’t matter what face the love has, love makes you stupid, it takes you out of your character, twists you, folds you, it drags you out into deep waters and drowns you. Love has you thinking about all the things you buried. All the things you left behind. It has you thinking about your mother, who was a nurse once, wearing scrubs and coming home late, before all the fighting, before the vodka, before the heroin, before Cesar found her in the bathtub sleeping in her own blood. Love has you crying on the couch while you’re feeding your baby. Not even a month old and you’re leaving him. Not because you want to, but because of love. Because you love him and you know he’s better off with somebody else. Because it’s the right thing to do. But righteousness doesn’t take the edge of the sting. Because it hurts. Because he’s looking up at you. His eyes wide in awe like you’re God herself. Your son cannot understand a word that you’re saying. He doesn’t understand that you’re saying goodbye.

But he understood it was over, and he felt able to let her go. He was sure their life together had happened in the way he said it had. But it was something that had passed. And that passing--though it seemed impossible and he'd fought against it--would become part of him now, too, as surely as anything else he'd left behind.

But, when he saw that glint of happiness in his father’s eyes in the middle of his sentence, he decided that he wanted it to stay that way.

Can anyone actually find a replacement for a lost loved one? Isn't there a difference between things and human beings?

Don’t watch me walk away, but turn and see where we have been, and if my prayers be answered may someday be again

Consider this a one-thousand horsepower divorce, sweetheart

Deep down, I think everybody wants to be ‘the one’ to someone. I don’t know if I’ve ever been that person to anyone else – but I do know you are that person to me. You are the one. The only one. And you always will be.

Desiree. It's like falling in love every night and having your heart broken every morning... Having more memory is just a way of distorting a greater amount of the past.

Don't cry for the lose of friendship because your lose does not matter to that person who left you, They make fun of your special tears, So never let other make you feel low, Because it gives you the pain not to them.

Even now I shake and tremble as I write. Memory is too weak a name for this terrible evocation. Oh Hartley, Hartley, how timeless, how absolute love is. My love for you is unaware that I am old and you perhaps are dead.

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Excuses will always be made, and blame will always fall on the other. Though the truth is before you, your own love will forever blind you from it. I will not lose you just to prove a point, nor to shatter your heart with the reality before you. Instead I will smile. I will live. I will accept that it just is. I do not do this for them, but I will do it for you. I will do it because I love you." - from an untitled script

Everybody wants their own little place in the world. And maybe mine is here… Loving you from a distance…

Filled to the brim, Spilling, Splashing all the way, Drenching the one who carries it, Like an overfilled vessel… His heart bursts inside him, While he drives past her lane.

Farewell, ungrateful traitor, Farewell, my perjured swain; Let never injured creature Believe a man again. The pleasure of possessing Surpasses all expressing, But 'tis too short a blessing, And love too long a pain. 'Tis easy to deceive us In pity of your pain; But when we love you leave us To rail at you in vain. Before we have descried it There is no bliss beside it, But she that once has tried it Will never love again. The passion we pretended Was only to obtain, But when the charm is ended The charmer you disdain. Your love by ours we measure Till we have lost our treasure, But dying is a pleasure When living is a pain.

For the one that loved, the nightmare, it was simple. It never had been, but was all in their mind.

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 the thousandth time he wished he’d just met her. That they were but two strangers traveling together, that such lovely, filthy thoughts did not break him in two, but were only a pleasant pastime as he slowly fell under the spell of her aloof beauty and her hidden intensity. … But no, they’d met long ago, in the furthest years of his childhood. Their chances had come and gone. All they had ahead of them were a tedious road and a final good-bye.

For you are you, and I am I, and once we were we… but as long as I exist and so do you – know that I will always love you.

Gud i himlen, kjærligheten er et flygtig stof!

Funny thing about love, ain’t it? Sometimes it saves you and sometimes, like right then, even love isn’t enough.

Friendships are not currency.

Have the courage to walk away, those that value you will want you back, & those that do not won't hold you back.

He belongs to me, and I to him... without each-other, we are merely two lost pieces, empty, without purpose...

Heavens can witness I love none but you: From my embracements thus he breaks away. O that mine arms could close this isle about, That I might pull him to me where I would! Or that these tears that drizzle from mine eyes Had power to mollify his stony heart, That when I had him we might never part.

Hell was not a pit of fire and brimstone. Hell was waking up alone, the sheets wet with your tears and your seed, knowing the woman you had dreamed of would never come back to you.

He clutched the watch hard in his fist, determined to destroy it, to prove that it couldn't be real. That she hadn't come here because of him, for him. That he hadn't done what he knew he had.

He imagined over and over the few moments they had together, kiss and touch and stickiness, until those moments congealed to a single kiss, a single touch: a pearl. Then even her face was lost in a blur, only the smallest sensation remained. And then nothing. He was over forty now. He thought of her but the sensuous arousals that once troubled him no longer stirred in him the same seismic memory: he didn't feel hate, or distance, or love, or passion. Only safety. Nothing can touch me now. Only pity. What will you do, whom I cannot save?

He loved her. And she loved him. And in such bliss does devastation grow.

He looked at me like I was the stars when all I’d ever felt like was the dark nothingness between them.

He wept for the hours he would spend with one he loved less than she, and he wept for the hours she might spend with someone who loved her less than he. Would that these tears that blinded his eyes might cause her eyes to see.

He was footprints in the snow. Not all loves are meant to last. Some are meant to grace you briefly, before fading, somehow leaving the impression that the world is just a little bit better because you had been touched by something so beautiful it was impossible to grasp.

His absence was a presence. Who knew an empty space could take up so much room.

I could've loved you but the line is too long and your passiveness is endless.

How many times did we pass each other before we met? If only I’d known…. I would have searched for you endlessly. If only I’d found you before it was already too late.

How do you love someone and just… walk away? Just like that. You just, go on as normal…. You get up, get dressed, go to work… How can you do that? How can you be okay with that?

How I wish I could undo it all … take it all back… All those years I spent unhappy with him …. when I should have been looking for you.

I CANNOT tell you now; When the wind's drive and whirl Blow me along no longer, And the wind's a whisper at last-- Maybe I'll tell you then-- some other time. When the rose's flash to the sunset Reels to the rack and the twist, And the rose is a red bygone, When the face I love is going And the gate to the end shall clang, And it's no use to beckon or say, "So long"-- Maybe I'll tell you then-- some other time. I never knew any more beautiful than you: I have hunted you under my thoughts, I have broken down under the wind And into the roses looking for you. I shall never find any greater than you.

I didn’t love you to seek revenge. I didn’t love you out of loneliness or unhappiness. I didn’t love you for any of the misguided reasons that time might convince you I did. I just loved you because you’re you.

I’d never dreamed anybody could love me the way he did. And even when he proved it to me time and again – I still could hardly believe it was true.

I don’t face sadness when friends leave because friends always come back. Yet when lovers leave, it’s like death. You’ll never see them again.

If love diminishes, it quickly fails and rarely revives.

I don't know why I feel so wounded with Kartik's obvious infatuation with Pippa. There's no romance between us. There's nothing that tethers us but this dark secret neither of us wants. It's not Kartik's longing that hurts. It's my own. It's knowing that I'll never have what she has--a beauty so powerful it brings things to you. I fear I will always have to chase things I want. I'll always have to wonder whether I'm truly wanted or whether I've just been settled for.

I don’t think you ever really understood…. …. All the love I had in the world went to you.

I felt this boy whose name I couldn't be bothered to remember grunting and heaving inside me; I was that empty and that far away. And suddenly I knew what became of all those lost balloons: they were the loves that slipped out of our fists; the blank eyes that rose in every night sky.

I do think that men can forget a lost love quickly. I know that women would find it much harder.