Best 366 quotes in «separation quotes» category

Sadder than a ticking clock, the moments without you

Separation. It becomes a fact the moment the seed of life takes. Choose to, you could imagine life as a series of separations - birth, leaving home, losing a beloved, death. Those are among the normal separations, the ones you are expected to stand up to. You adjust to them, and move to the next stage.

Separation is not fatal.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath for one last time and let his hand go. She saw his boat drifting away they both looked at each other and waved one last time before she could not see him anymore.

She fit her head under his chin, and he could feel her weight settle into him. He held her tight and words spilled out of him without prior composition. And this time he made no effort to clamp them off. He told her about the first time he had looked on the back of her neck as she sat in the church pew. Of the feeling that had never let go of him since. He talked to her of the great waste of years between then and now. A long time gone. And it was pointless, he said, to think how those years could have been put to better use, for he could hardly have put them to worse. There was no recovering them now. You could grieve endlessly for the loss of time and the damage done therein. For the dead, and for your own lost self. But what the wisdom of the ages says is that we do well not to grieve on and on. And those old ones knew a thing or two and had some truth to tell, Inman said, for you can grieve your heart out and in the end you are still where you are. All your grief hasn't changed a thing. What you have lost will not be returned to you. It will always be lost. You're left with only your scars to mark the void. All you can choose to do is go on or not. But if you go on, it's knowing you carry your scars with you. Nevertheless, over all those wasted years, he had held in his mind the wish to kiss her on the back of her neck, and now he had done it. There was a redemption of some kind, he believed, in such complete fulfillment of a desire so long deferred.

She was not indifferent to him. He knew well how the sweet, little flame that she transported around as she labored and wore herself out, had a habit of growing to a conflagration in his months’ long absence; one that revealed itself at the end of the long first day of their return, when he could finally spread himself on his bed atop the terrace alone under the gaze of the stars in the heaven. Tiptoeing up, she too would join him by his side, throwing quickly her leg and her arm around him, taking him in her tight clasp. She would turn into a magician and he’d willingly let his queen play magic on his body. Turning, then, on his side he would tear open the front of her clothes, like a man removes the lid of his chest of valued treasures and a whole sweet universe would open to him. His heart was wedged between the two daggers of her eyes and in this life at least, he was stitched, body and soul, to her.

Somehow everything always came down to time, she realized with perfect lucidity. There was either too much or too little. It either passed too quickly or too slowly. It didn’t belong to anyone—it was simply a gift, bestowed by God, and yet eternally taken for granted. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing Time could be tamed—reigned in—and tethered, synchronized with human needs and wants. But that wasn’t the case, was it?

Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part, Nay, I have done, you get no more of me, And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes, Now, if thou wouldst, when all have giv'n him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.

So many days had passed since he had left her but the disorder that she had brought into his world had not left him. He thought of her many times during the day. Not being able to see her made him feverish. At nights he slept with emptiness filling his embrace. Life without her was unbearable and he longed to return to her.

Silver linings abound: I always knew I loved my son, but you certainly get a “perspective-check” when you go through a parting like that. His despair is tough to bear witness to, but reinforces how dearly he loves me. It strengthens my already tough resolve to remain as a positive influence in his life, despite the geographic distance between us.

Some of our friends are our friends only because we used to be friends.

Some people are meant to frame your destiny but not reach the destined destination with you.

Something or someone is always waving goodbye.

Sometimes, despite how your heart feels, you have to do what you must in order to get the result you need. When it's impossible to walk away then you need to make it hurt and they will walk away for you.

Some things happen for a reason, Others just come with the season.

Stick it out" is no longer the best advice to give in today's world of marriage because what really matters now is no longer the quantity of time you stay together as much as the quality of time you have together. Hence, the key now lies in focusing more on becoming a quality person, and being congruent with our sensuality brings quality in us.

Sometimes saying goodbye to the ones you love can be the most appropriate thing to do in order to help them understand there are consequences for each and every choice we make.

Sometimes you have to give up on people. Not because you don't care but because they don't. A person's actions will tell you everything you need to know. Love yourself enough to say goodbye to those who don't make time for you or don't know how to love you back. Let go of what hurts, even if it hurts to let go." ~ Jennifer Green

Staying separate from those we love hurts.

The actuality that the heart does not want to feel, doesn't negate the certitude that it once felt and will still feel.

Strength is wearing a smile even when you are wailing inside!

Tevis dēļ es esmu pratis daudz/. Esmu kāvies, cīnījies un cirties.Tikai vienu nepratu nekad - pašā 'īstākajā brīdī šķirties.

Suffer you will, one way or another

Take it from glass, take it from goblet, else take it from my eyes, the intoxication, you will never come out from

That is when time stands still - when you watch the one you love, walk away.

[That wall] might be breached sometime in the future, but for now the only real conversation between them was the roots that had already grown low and deep, under the wall, where they could not be broken. The most terrible thing, though, was the fear that the wall could never be breached, that in his heart Alai was glad of the separation, and was ready to be Ender's enemy. For now that they could not be together, they must be infinitely apart, and what had been sure and unshakable was now fragile and insubstantial; from the moment we are not together, Alai is a stranger, for he has a life now that will be no part of mine, and that means that when I see him we will not know each other.

The distance of time’s separation brings us remnants of memories so ancient that most are lost in the mists of illusion…

The day he moved out was terrible – That evening she went through hell. His absence wasn’t a problem But the corkscrew had gone as well.

The flesh covers the bones, and makes the spirit naked.

The first ray -- as the blessing of the Lord -- Across the face of the beloved did creep, Who, sleeping, went a little pale, And then again more tightly went to sleep. It seemed that warmth of ray of sun Appeared to him just like a kiss. And long with these my lips I have not touched The tan strong shoulder or the dear lips. And now, the deceased spirits in my long Disconsolate wandering along the way, I am now flying toward him as a song And I caress him with a morning ray.

The leaving happened slowly, gradually, as these things do, and before we knew it, we were lost to each other, as if a magician had whisked a cloth off the table, leaving the dishes there, jolted. And when we looked back it was all a blur, time on fast forward, hurtling to an inevitable conclusion.

The interval of space separating her from him was one which he must as inevitably traverse as he must descend, by an irresistible gravitation, the steep slope of life itself.

The largest uniqueness of yours is where you are special and differ from others

The God I serve is able to save us both. To give us the winning lottery ticket so all our money problems will go away. To mend our broken hearts. To bring us close to those we love. He is able. He is able. He is able. But even if He doesn’t, do not bow to bitterness. Do not fall down onto your broken pieces and let them cut you to ribbons. Even if He doesn’t do all that He is able to do, all that we wish He would do, He is good.

The harsh reality will be the fear that has always been at the back of your mind coming to play right in front of your eyes

The mellow flame of their love was prepared to turn to a raging fire. Separation was not an option for them.

The notion that where one is from can be understood using what remains of that place opens up a highly sensitive and rich terrain that can help unpack belonging, especially if that place has now been rendered inaccessible by national borders.

The most difficult battle is peace.

The only cure here was death. They were both gone out of my life.

There is no need of words. Our lives will do, Long long enough to learn all of our love, While time, the river, flows gently below, Having no false eternities to prove. The night is full of unspent tenderness And in its silences we rest apart. There is no need of words with which to bless The daily bread, the wine of the full heart. Here are the peaceful days we cannot share. Here is our peace at last, and we not there.

The problem is politics is made a sport, almost as much a sport as football or baseball. When it comes to politics, adults and politicians do more finger-pointing and play more games than children ever do. Too often are we rooting for the pride of a team rather than the good of the nation.

There are just traces of me and not a shadow left… Without the traces of your iridescence to make my silhouette.

There are two forms of friendship: meeting and separation. They are indissoluble. Both of them contain some good, and this good of friendship is unique, for when two beings who are not friends are near each other there is no meeting, and when friends are far apart there is no separation. As both forms contain the same good thing, they are both equally good.

The part of something is missing and the remaining part is itself not able to explain what part is missing.

There is now a distance, pressing quite persistent, May be only inches apart, but as if an artery is blocked. There now seem some secrets, a word which was earlier so needless. May be they now laugh so less, and even in summers, the air between them feels dense. Who connects? Who neglects? Barely matters when you are no more friends.

The songs of separation Are not always full of pain Often they talk of the fondness That flows in the lovers’ veins…

The sense of belonging together had been deeper than love.

The return journey was nothing like the arrival. Bea couldn’t wait to get out of the car. She remembered feeling like this before, with Brandon, on several occasions. It was an excruciating need to escape the confinement of being in too close a proximity to passive-aggressive behaviour. She hated conflict, after a row, it would take her hours, perhaps days to become fully relaxed and herself again. She became anxious, not entirely brought on by his coldness, but by old memories, and the way her body would instinctively react to them. It wasn’t a feeling that she wanted to experience with someone new, of whom she’d told his sister only a short time ago that she was falling in love with.

The sun still lives his silent vows to the moon, by bowing to kiss her feet whenever she walks in the room.

they come different and the same with each it is different and the same with each the absence of love is different with each the absence of love is the same