Best 2090 quotes in «letting go quotes» category

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    Instead of hating someone, pray for that person. Don't forget to pray for yourself as well, that you may learn how to let go and forgive.

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    In the process of letting go, we create abundance.

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    In the process of letting go, you gain the power to unfold yourself like a flower.

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    Inutile piangere sul latte versato. (No use crying over spilled milk.)

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    I once found a phoenix charred in its own ashes. I brought it home with me, wept through the night, and then tossed it to the wind--its brittle body dispersing all about. This thing without a name and deep within me--how it truly believes that if something is meant to take flight, then it must one way or another.

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    I often leave... You see, I'm not angry nor hold grouches at what they do. It makes me angry that they would get mad if I did what they do.

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    I only hold on so I can let go.

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    I pour blood on my naiveté, your apathy, and your betrayal tonight.

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    I realized how hard it that must have been, how much hurt when you know the only way to help someone is to give him distance. So I let him go.

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    I realized that there was no point or sense in chasing after happiness that had perished.

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    I see so many women here,” she says, “and they are holding, all of them. Holding on to their sons or their lovers or their husbands, or their fathers, just as surely as they are holding on to the photographs that they keep or the fragments of childhood they bring with them and out on the table here.” She gestures with her hand. “They’re all different but all the same. All of them are afraid to let them go. And if we feel guilt, we find it even harder to release the dead. We keep them close to us; we guard them jealously. They were OURS. We want them to remain ours.” There’s a silence. “But they’re not ours,” she says. “And in a sense, they never were. They belong to themselves, only. Just as we belong to ourselves. And this is terrible in some ways, and in others...it might set us free.

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    I see so many women here,” she says, “and they are holding, all of them. Holding on to their sons or their lovers or their husbands, or their fathers, just as surely as they are holding on to the photographs that they keep or the fragments of childhood they bring with them and out on the table here.” She gestures with her hand. “They’re all different but all the same. All of them are afraid to let them go. And I’d we feel guilt, we find it even harder to release the dead. We keep them close to us; we guard them jealously. They were OURS. We want them to remain ours.” There’s a silence. “But they’re not ours,” she says. “And I’m a sense, they never were. They belong to themselves, only. Just as we belong to ourselves. And this is terrible in some ways, and I’m others...it might set us free.

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    I see your face, your smile and poetry comes flooding out of a heart that can't love you anymore...

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    Is it a weakness not being able to hate? Or is it preparation for what is inevitable, the ability only to love.

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    Isn’t it funny how we make rational excuses for being out of alignment? We say, “Well, this ____ and that ____ happened, so it makes perfect sense for me to be feeling like this ____ and wanting to do this ____.” Yet, to this day, I have never met a happy person who adheres to those excuses. In fact, each time I – or anyone else – decide to give in to “rational excuses” that justify feeling bad – it’s interesting that only further suffering is the result. There is never a good enough reason for us to be out of alignment with peace. Sure, we can go there and make choices that dim our lights… and that is fine; there certainly is purpose for it and the contrast gives us lessons to learn… yet if we’re aware of what we are doing and we’re ready to let go of the suffering – then why go there at all? It’s like beating a dead horse. Been there, done that… so why do we keep repeating it? Pain is going to happen; it’s inevitable in this human experience, yet it is often so brief. When we make those excuses, what happens is: we pick up that pain and begin to carry it with us into the next day… and the next day… into next week… maybe next month… and some of us even carry it for years or to our graves! Forgive, let it go! It is NOT worth it! It is NEVER worth it. There is never a good enough reason for us to pick up that pain and carry it with us. There is never a good enough reason for us to be out of alignment with peace. Unforgiveness hurts you; it hurts others, so why even go there? Why even promote pain? Why say painful things to yourself or others? Why think pain? Just let it go! Whenever I look back on painful things or feel pain today, I know it is my EGO that drives me to “go there.” The EGO likes to have the last word, it likes to feel superior, it likes to make others feel less than in hopes that it will make itself (me) feel better about my insecurities. Maybe if I hurt them enough, they will feel the pain I felt over what they did to me. It’s only fair! It’s never my fault; it’s always someone else’s. There is a twisted sense of pleasure I get from feeling this way, and my EGO eats it right up. YET! With awareness that continues to grow and expand each day, I choose to not feed my pain (EGO) or even go there. I still feel it at times, of course, so I simply acknowledge it and then release it. I HAVE power and choice over my speech and actions. I do not need to ever “go there” again. It’s my choice; it’s your choice. So it’s about damn time we start realizing this. We are not victims of our impulses or emotions; we have the power to control them, and so it’s time to stop acting like we don’t. It’s time to relinquish the excuses.

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    I think about this, not like someone thinking, but like someone breathing, And I look at flowers and I smile... I don’t know if they understand me Or if I understand them, But I know the truth is in them and in me And in our common divinity Of letting ourselves go and live on the Earth And carrying us in our arms through the contented Seasons And letting the wind sing us to sleep And not have dreams in our sleep.

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    Isn't it weird the way you remember things, when someone's gone?

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    I take my hand back, like a leaf letting go. It hurts too much to hang on. So why does it hurt so much to let go?

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    I think it happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want. Then you realize that the people you have known forever don't see things the way you do and so you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on.

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    I still think of you every day. But I’m trying not to let it hurt me with the same intensity that it used to.

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    It could be the sound of each name he knows/curling to ash in his chest’s aortic furnace one after another, year after year instructing him/in the patient work of letting go. Even still/there are things it is reluctant to unclasp./How the Osage orange trunks and bare limbs/glow in the scattered light like veins of fire.

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    It had been so long since she’d given herself permission to just feel without thinking, to act without discussing the consequences. And yeah, there would be consequences, she had no doubt.

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    It hurts that I was just one page in the book of your life… But what hurts more is knowing you’ll revise that chapter someday…. ….. and you’ll erase me completely.

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    It hurts to let go, to say goodbye for the final time and remain distant in your closure, it may even tear your heart out to the point of insanity; but somehow in it all you find the pieces of your worth and you start creating yourself again, and in that journey of transformation you find the essence of what truly matters, inner happiness. It's life, we all fall at some stage but it's up to you, to decide how long you want to stay there.

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    It is a state of peace to be able to accept things as they are. This is to be at home in our own lives. We see that this universe is much too big to hold on to, but it is the perfect size for letting go. Our hearts and minds become that big, and we can actually let go. This is the gift of equanimity.

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    It is better to be a king in the jungle and be celebrated than to be an unknown champion where you’d not be afforded the kind of respect you deserve.

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    it is hard to let go , to imagine alternatives, stop thinking about things you are not ready to explore .

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    It is by giving the freedom to the other, that is by letting go, we gain our own freedom back.

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    ...it is hard to throw off long-established love: hard, but this you must managed somehow

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    It is not easy to let someone go, even when they have said unforgivable things to you.

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    It might be harder than you imagined it to be -- it might take longer -- but you can change things, Marik. Your life is significant. As low as you are . . . there is only room to rise. But you have to let go.

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    It is not memories but the person we have become because of those past experiences that we should treasure. This is the lesson these keepsakes teach us when we sort them. The space in which we live should be for the person we are becoming now, not the person we were in the past. P.118

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    It just happens that a lot of us have been through too much that is even too less than our age..and what happens is we cannot but remember it and all we think about is how to make now and after better than before.

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    It makes no sense to try to extend a friendship that was only meant to be a season into a lifetime.

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    I took a breath and let it go and suddenly the air was crisper and my lungs lighter and suddenly there was him saying my name in different ways and I catch myself throwing glances in the mirror, seeing someone I don’t know quite yet but I can’t wait to, and that is the start of everything.

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    It never truly mattered. None of it. Neither of us. It was one out of billion moments and I took it for more than it was; that’s why we’re always so brokenhearted.

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    I tried to abandon my tenacity, but I just couldn't let it go.

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    It's a lot harder to get someone OUT of your life than it is to let them IN, so please…be selective.

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    It's me. I chose this. I chose all of this — this rock has been waiting for me my entire life. I’ve been moving towards it my whole life.

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    It’s funny how we say a person ‘made’ us when they actually broke us. Sort of like how I say ‘funny’... but I actually mean sad.

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    It's hard getting momentum riding a bike up hill... It's hard getting momentum when you're dragging around all the pain from your past.

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    It’s never easy letting go. But if we don’t learn the art of relinquishment, we’ll never move forward to embrace the new relationships God has for us.

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    It's not the current that will drown you. It's the exhaustion from fighting it.

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    It's not the sort of thing one asks of a friend. He hasn't offered, and I will not ask it. I will not tear him that way. I am trying to let go. I don't know how.

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    It's a tiring game resenting the scars and the fearful memories.

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    It's effortless to let go of self-absorbed people. It's challenging to let go of someone you care about and it's exceedingly difficult to let go of an ideal and a belief in someone because what exacerbates the disappointment of finding out they weren't who they presented themselves to be, is the betrayal of it.

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    It’s hard to leave toxic relationships because you become dependent on the action of how they treat you. You depend on manipulation because the emotionally abused no longer comprehend self worth. You understand it, but your mind tells you otherwise and become afraid to leave the situation. You don’t think you’re worthy which makes you question leaving it.

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    It's not always the fear of losing them that scares us it's that we have given them so many of our pieces that we fear losing parts of us when they are gone.

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    It's not a case of the glass being half full or half empty; more that we tipped a whole half-pint into an empty pint pot. I had to see how much was there, though, and now I know.

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    It's time, Perry". He let her go. She took a step back, taking in his face one last time. His green eyes. The bend in his nose and the scars on his cheek. All the tiny inperfections that made him beautiful. Without a word, she turned and made her way downhill.