Best 366 quotes in «separation quotes» category

I must think of him as vanished utterly and gone forever.

In China, we say: 'There are many dreams in a long night.' It has been a long night, but I don't know if I want to continue the dreams. It feels like I am walking on a little path, both sides are dark mountains and valleys. I am walking towards a little light in the distance. Walking, and walking, I am seeing that light diminishing. I am seeing myself walk towards the end of the love, the sad end. I love you more than I loved you before. I love you more than I should love you. But I must leave. I am losing myself. It is painful that I can't see myself. It is time for me to say those words you kept telling me recently. 'Yes, I agree with you. We can't be together.

Indeed, analyst Robert Bak calls orgasm "the perfect promise between love and death," the means by which we repatriate separation of mother and child through the momentary extinction of the self. It is true that few of us consciously climb into a lover's bed in the hope of finding our mommy between the sheets. But the sexual loss of our separateness (which may scare people so badly they cannot have orgasm) brings us pleasure, in part, because it unconsciously repeats our first connection.

I needed to know that he was suffering without me.

I never had any problem with my heart, till I met you!

In general, Mark was right; love was a business predestined for failure. I should have poked my head out of the sand in time and asked whether my husband loved me or not.

influence flows across networks up to three degrees away. What your friends’ friends eat or do or think will influence what you eat or do or think—but further connections will not.

In life we are separated by boundaries political, cultural, ethical, linguistical and psychical. But in death we are all united, for all afterlife is similarly unknown

In my heart, there’s only him and me left…I selfishly put everyone else aside and forget them. All that’s left behind is everything he and I shared. For the first time, no one can bother us. The first time where I don’t have any worries and can start to love him again... -Ruo Xi

In short, the man displayed a constant and insurmountable impulse to wrap himself in a covering, to make himself, so to speak, a case which would isolate him and protect him from external influences. Reality irritated him, frightened him, kept him in continual agitation, and, perhaps to justify his timidity, his aversion for the actual, he always praised the past and what had never existed; and even the classical languages which he taught were in reality for him goloshes and umbrellas in which he sheltered himself from real life.

In the sea of my emotions, his presence is like a pearl in the oyster. Very hard to locate, yet very precious and still beautiful.

I realized that whilst crying over the loss, the living did not seem adequate because they were not my loved one. The room full of strangers hurt me profusely. Even as I saw thousands of young people; I felt incomplete and more saddened because the one I wanted to see was buried.

I put my back against the wall. I slide down to the floor. I imagine Ryan sitting next to me. I imagine him rubbing my back, the way he did when my grandfather died. I imagine him saying, "She's going to a better place. She's OK." I imagine the way my grandfather might have done this for my grandmother when she lost her own mom or her own grandmother. I imagine my grandmother sitting where I am now, my grandfather kneeling beside her, telling her all the things I want to be told. Holding her the way that only someone in particular can hold you. When I'm her age, when I'm lying in a hospital bed, ready to die, whom will I be thinking of? It's Ryan. It's always been Ryan. Just because I can live without him doesn't mean I want to. And I don't. I don't want to. I want to hear his voice. The way it is rough but sometimes smooth and almost soulful. I want to see his face, with his stubble from never shaving down to the skin. I want to smell him again. I want to hold the roughness of his hands. I want to feel the way they envelop mine, dwarfing them, making me feel small. I need my husband.

Isn’t it better that we send them off once and for all beneath the glow of carnival lights, with the taste of treats on our tongues, rather than invite the acrid tang of doubt, and undue longing, and the heart-stab of a freshly sundered bond?

I think we just start, so it will be easy to get rid of you. But it's not. No matter hard I try.

I supposed to hate her, right? But, instead... I saw her... stood there, in front of me, with the rain coming down on her body... and mascara running on her cheeks... her hair looked messy, and all I could think in that time was... I'd never seen anyone more beautiful than her. What should I do then? What am I supposed to do with my life from now on?

It has just been discovered that women carry fetal cells from all the babies they have carried. Crossing the defensive boundaries of our immune system and mixing with our own cells, the fetal cells circulate in the mother’s bloodstream for decades after each birth. The body does not tolerate foreign cells, which trigger illness and rejection. But a mother’s body incorporates into her own the cells of her children as if they recognize each other, belong to each other. This fantastic melding of two selves, mother and child, is called human microchimerism. My three children are carried in my bloodstream still…. How did we not know this? How can this be a surprise?

I think it must be one of those things where no one’s wrong and everybody loses.

It is always painful to part from people whom one has known for a brief space of time. The absence of old friends one can endure with equanimity, But even a momentary separation from anyone to whom one has just been introduced is almost unbearable.

it was the blood of Christ which had purged their conscience "from dead works to serve the living God." They had believed in Jesus, and now their consciences were purged by that blood. That shows us, that however religious a man may be, though he may even act up to the Word of God as far as he knows it, short of believing in Jesus; yet it is all" dead works," unless his conscience has been purged. May every one of us understand the truth, that unless the blood be on the conscience, and unless there is simple and single trust in it, the conscience is still unpurged. and all the works of religiousness are works, if I may so say, done in Egypt in the darkness of death, and are not accepted of God. There must be the coming out of Egypt, and this is what the pilgrims were dressed for. God called them to come out of Egypt, and here they were, ready to start: they were to go and serve God under another sky, in another land, altogether upon another footing. So it is with believers: they must begin by obeying the command, "Come out and be ye separate.

It's been 12 years now, and I think he still can read my smiles. The way my lips stretch, making my eyes look smaller than they already are. The way my cheeks turn a little red, forming new wrinkles near my eyes. The way the dimple on my face makes a visit whenever I smile meeting someone I haven't seen in ages. It's been 12 years now, and I haven't smiled at him even once.

It's hard to get an exact match at the right time in your life, and even if you do manage that, things change, we change, that is why I am not a fan of marriage.

It’s like I’d been walking a tightrope with a big safety net underneath me, but I never really thought about the net until someone took it away. And then every single step scared me to death.

It's okay,” he said. “We're together.” He didn't say you're okay, or we're alive. After all they'd been through over the last year, he knew that the most important thing was that they were together. She loved him for saying that.

It was curious how quiet that last evening was; as if I had already left, and we were just two ghosts talking to each other.

It is better to believe an obvious lie, than to swallow a deceitful truth.

It's terrible to have to fear that your powers will activate at any given moment. Especially when you draw close to people... and find that your only choice is to pull away. It's overwhelming when you find a time, a person, with which there's nothing to fear.

It's when you realize that two individuals are not growing together, that they're growing apart. At that time, you realize in that growing apart, that they're not so much growing apart but with the understanding of magnetics and relationships, they're being pulled apart. There's a sort of repulsion happening, that the disagreement between them is greater than the agreement, and that disagreement is magnetically pushing them away from each other. An observance and awareness are needed of the actual repulsion. But with all things, if those individuals choose to see that the repulsion is happening and do not wish for it they can always choose to find common ground and reverse that effect, and begin to attract in a very harmonic way. But in disharmony, there's only a matter of when it will naturally happen. Generally, in a universal sense we try not to force these occurrences it must occur naturally. When you see that the disagreement and disharmony are greater than the agreement and harmony then it will become a natural repulsion that will create the separation.

It was too quiet for hope, and then too loud for safety. She thought of the people she had lost, of the affection, the smiles, the belonging she could never again take for granted. It was the end of a life, and as she stood there, shivering in the brief night-time chill, it dawned on her that it was the end of her childhood.

I've just been around long enough to see many sides of what our lovely evil boy-god Eros can be like. You see, there is a reason that Eros uses arrows to ensnare our hearts rather than strings or even chains. Because it is usually the person who is beyond our grasp, the last person we should love who pierces our heart.

I was in awe of the mystery of human compassion and the inability of love to make the distance between us any more bearable.

I was fine before you came into my life. And I bet I’ll be just fine without you in it again.

I will not forgive. I will inflict and invite suffering-all our lives. As Bunni grows up she'll hear from her mother that her father is cruel,capricious, tyrannical person. Bunni won't love me. Everyone will take her side, because she is a woman, I won't be able to say a thing, ever. I will have to keep my mouth shut my entire life. I must maintain my wife's honour. And we call women the weaker sex! How deadly is the strength of frailty, and men-if they're gentlemen- how incredibly helpless!

Love is more powerful than separation, but the latter is more lasting.

Love happens only once, what happens after that is just compromise; with your heart and with your life...

.......Love is such a biological feeling, which kills, without killing you biologically.

Love ... was part imagination, its web spun as much in the dark lonely separated evenings of longing as in the shared times together.

Love me even when I’ve lost my way; Untethered, adrift, astray.I will follow your whispers like breadcrumbs. And in that way, I will always find the path back to the sweet harbor of your arms.

Marriage is for the mature, not the infantile. The fusion of two different personalities requires emotional balance and control on the part of each person.

Marriage brings together not just a man and his wife but their children and their struggles. To suddenly drop the partner who has carried that load with you along life's journey for all these years for someone with no strings or worries attached is cruel. Marriage is not a commercial enterprise in which you replace a car you have tired of with another one.

New rules—we needed new rules. No one opens the main doors but me. No one leaves the property without me. No one goes outside without letting me know. I had these horrible images in my head of kids being restrained against their wills, of kids crying my name out, begging me to help them when I was powerless. Desperate times… Lord, my soul called out. Lord…somehow that’s as far as I could get. I didn’t have the words.

Marriage to the groom does not means that his heart belongs to the bride.

Milkers don’t spend half as long with their mothers." Eli spread his chore coat over Little Joe. "Not more than a few weeks. Sometimes one day. Maybe not even ... If you were a peeper, it’d be even worse. They don’t even get to see their mamas. They’re still jelly beans when they’re left alone to hatch.

Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore My love was infinite, if spring makes it more.

Much have we loved you. But speechless was our love, and with veils has it been veiled, Yet now it cries aloud unto you, and would stand revealed before you. And ever has it been that love knows not it's depth until the hour of separation

My mom was sitting at the kitchen table. She’d set her coffee down, making a noise that made me look her way. I’d begun to notice her less and less often, like her colors were fading and blending in with walls. She was shrinking. Or maybe her sphere of influence in the family was shrinking. My dad glanced at her, too, and then wrote something on a napkin. He slid it across the counter to me—Don’t worry. Come home in one piece. Have fun and act like a sixteen-year-old for a change.

night, and the moon a blur above— I wonder where the world hides you, and if perhaps you still love me

Maybe he would see me as weak and stupid. Maybe he was right.

Name and form are simply illusions of separation. Love doesn’t make us blind; rather, it erases the illusions so we can see clearly.

Nah, I shook my head, things that come out of nowhere go back to nowhere, that’s all. We fell silent again. The thing we had shared was nothing more than a fragment of time that had died long ago. Even so, a faint glimmer of that warm memory still claimed a part of my heart. And when death claimed me, no doubt I would walk along by that faint light in the brief instant before being flung once again into the abyss of nothingness.