Best 321 quotes in «lost love quotes» category

Your life experience is unfolding in the precise response to the vibrations that radiate as a result of your thoughts, whether you know it is or not.

And in such bliss does devastation grow.

All love is alike, knowing no season, sun, or clime, but that damn sun does represent lovers’ ever-changing time. Why does it rise to show lovers nothing lasts? Does it not see those lovers and think, ‘I can eclipse and darken them with a wink. I could kill all love by rising and sending them to their forlorn pasts. I can make them for each other pine, and wait and wait as I rise and set. HA! Buffoons, they are all mine. And every time I shine they owe me a debt.

And I go home having lost her love. And write this book.

And I go looking looking for you in the streets And I never find you I never find you at all

A broken heart can be as lethal as a bullet to the brain.

A dream you once were, A dream of all my realities, A dream I can no long strive for In the wake of my manly betayals

A kiss…. ….. is just a kiss…. Until it’s all you reminisce. (Then the memory becomes your most treasured possession.)

All that history, the love & laughter, is designed for youth. It is what keeps the story of who we are alive from one generation to the next. It ensures our indelible mark in the souls of generations we will never have the pleasure of holding in a warm embrace. Life is short people. Before you know it, another decade will pass, people you love will be lost to this world, and all that will be left of them is what we carry in our hearts." 2011

And I keep saying I miss who I was when I was with him .Why did it have to end ?Well maybe this person crossed your path to show that deep down ,this part of who you felt you were with him is in you ,always was,always will be and that maybe that person you were ,is the best version of yourself that you could be.

And now she was colder by the hour, more dead with every breath I took. I thought: That is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lost his glasses and went to the glasses store and they told him the world run out of glasses and he would just have to do without.

...and then I began to drift, fighting tears. I used to come here with Miriam. Miriam, my heart's desire. What was troubling her this morning? Maybe Kate had reproached her on the phone for leaving me? How dare Kate. Oh yeah? Go for it, my darling. Remind her of what she's missing. No, don't.

And this letter I didn't send how surprising to find it now. All this love I must have felt.

And we love you but I have to ask you to help me, to help us, please.” “How?” I asked, “By pretending nothing ever happened? Act as if she and I were strangers? Stand the way your sister acts towards me after all of what we had? Forget my story by her side? Are you asking me for that, Gabriel, for God’s sake?” “It sounds pretty bad when you put it like that…” Gabriel said, “but yes, pretty much.

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!

A person who has lost his power of love has become blind to the beauties of life.

A storm was coming; you could feel it in the air, chill wind was cutting through the thickest coat and there was a faint wetness in the air that was touching the skin if turned towards the storm. Mark looked at the sky above the ocean. The sky was getting darker it no longer felt like midday, the storm moved the clock forward and it felt more like the beginnings of sunset. With lightening flashes every few minutes, the sky would light up all of a sudden. It was magnificent, breathtaking and even life taking.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

Friendships are not currency.

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.

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.

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

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

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

Gud i himlen, kjærligheten er et flygtig stof!

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.

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

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

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?

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