Best 293 quotes in «heartbroken quotes» category

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    As a kid my heart would break for the villains.

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    Ash had said that eyes were windows to a person's soul, but hers were the windows to his. ~ Dante

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    As if you gave your heart to autumn, for What it destroys never blossoms again

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    As I observed him sitting there, a heavy look in his eyes, I longed to reach behind that barrier and pull out the warm, sensitive, passionate man I knew was trapped inside. There was nothing worse than feeling someone’s potential.

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    A single heartbreak teaches you more than what a lifetime of schooling can

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    As mãos de Zahara apertaram fortemente a saia. - Vais infligir-me a humilhação de ser eu a dizê-lo? Lochan levantou-se. - Jamais desejaria que te humilhasses. Eu sei, sei-o há já demasiado tempo. Zahara sentiu o coração pular. - Se o sabes, porque nunca… - Esquece-me, Zahara, pois não sinto o mesmo – interrompeu ele. Ela recuou. - Mentes… Porquê? Eu sei… O modo como me tratas, como me olhas. Eu sei que gostas de mim, vejo-o no teu olhar, vejo-o neste instante! Lochan sentiu os olhos dela mergulharem nos seus. - Durante anos foram-me apresentados pretendentes das mais nobres famílias – ouviu – Todos me dariam o conforto a que estava habituada, todos me cobririam de jóias, de vestidos luxuosos... no entanto, eu recusava-os. Recusava-os porque não via nada no seu olhar. Para eles, eu seria como um troféu, serviria apenas para provocar inveja. Uma nuvem cobriu o sol, deixando-os na sombra. - Inconscientemente tornei-me arrogante, altiva, somente para os afastar de mim, para que não desejassem casar-se com alguém como eu… Mas tu, tu viste para além da máscara que construí. Naquele dia, na capital, tu viste o que ninguém foi capaz de ver: o meu coração. - Zahara… - Não acredito que não sintas qualquer amor por mim. Lochan voltou-lhe as costas. - Não quero saber se és pobre, não me importo com o teu passado. O que sinto por ti é o que sempre desejei sentir – ouviu. O silêncio envolveu-os por momentos. - Lamento… Zahara correu para a frente dele. No seu olhar era visível desespero. - Não te agrado, é isso? Ele limitou-se a desviar o rosto. - Responde-me! - Como poderia ficar indiferente a alguém como tu – disse voltando a olhar nos olhos dela. - Então porquê, porquê? Lochan agarrou-lhe nos ombros, assustando-a. - Esquece-me por favor. Odeia-me. Odeia-me por isto com todas as tuas forças, mas não me ames, nunca me ames, Zahara. Lochan largou-lhe os ombros. Ela ficou sem reacção, e as lágrimas voltaram a molhar o seu rosto. - Não me faças isto… - implorou. O olhar dele tornou-se gélido. O seu rosto mostrava-se agora tão indecifrável, como o de uma estátua. - Odeia-me pelo sofrimento que te acabo de causar e depois esquece-me – disse deixando-a só. Zahara viu-o desaparecer por entre as colunas do palácio.

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    As there is no joy for the broken heart, there is not also an harmony to a guitar with broken strings!

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    As new chapters are born, old chapters die. Everything ceases at some point. I know its sad, but life goes on.

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    A speeding bullet from a speeding car could not penetrate his heart

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    But he also knew this centurion, this man of honour, would change her…by giving her love…and love was the most powerful force in the universe.

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    A torpid heart in agony needs a pen to bleed

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    Being aware sucks.

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    Break open your heart so that I may enter it.

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    Aunt Syl must have conveniently stopped reading the childhood fairy tales when the knight left the damsel in distress to pursue a better damsel out of my bedtime routine.

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    Beyond her declaration of love she could not see. But as she rehearsed the intensity of her passion she thought that he must, when the time came, respond. The desire to, at the right time, tell him became, as the years moved forward toward that time, increasingly painful, like a poisoned wound that must heal itself by breaking open. She now thought in anguish of the times, the recent times, when she could have told him, and had been afraid to, and had clumsily withdrawn, when she could have attracted him and drawn his attention to her. When she had watched over him when he was sleeping in the sedan-chair and could have wakened him with a kiss. If only she had let him know, then she could more easily have borne his not preferring her. He was ready to fall in love — and if he had known — he must have loved her — if he had known how much she loved him. The pain of this loss burnt her in every waking moment, that awful 'if only'. She had lost him, and lost him through her own fault. There were no more pleasures now in life.

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    But I felt that it was my heart which was broken. Something had broken in me to make me so cold and so perfectly still and far away.

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    But my walls were so high for a coward to climb …

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    But the absolute worst was when people asked if I was okay. Because then I had to admit that it was real, it happened, and we weren't together anymore.

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    Don't be selfish, Don't eat others heart.

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    Deep, deepest inside his wounded heart. he felt the new pain, the pain which would now travel with him always.

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    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.

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    Distraction is your friend.

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    Do you know that feeling - The feeling of being alive and dead, both at the same time? When it seems like you are just going through with different notions of life, without actually living it. I do, I know that feeling very well. I live with it, eat with it and often sleep with it.

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    Don't worry, Evie; my heart isn't broken, only bruised." -Sarah to Evie Johnson, p.345

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    Drawing up my knees, I fold in on myself. I want to make myself as small as possible. Perhaps this nonsensical pain will be smaller the smaller I am. Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous.

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    Do you think you can wait - because I don't want you to stop loving me. I keep remembering us and how it was. I don't want to hurt you...not ever...

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    Don't wear your heart on a sleeve unless it is covered by a thick coat.

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    Do you two have history?” “We used to friends” “Used to be?” “When I left, I never wanted to see him again

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    Do you know what hurts the most about a broken heart? Not being able to remember how you felt before...

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    Forgiveness is a transformative act because it asks you to be a more empathetic and compassionate person, thereby making you better than the person you were when you were first hurt.

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

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    Falling out of love was much harder than Gabe would have liked. Normally led through life by the heart attached to his sleeve, finding logic in love proved to be a bit like getting vaccinated for some dread disease: a good idea in the end, but the initial pain certainly wasn’t any fun. He came to appreciate that there were worse ways to live than to live without love. For instance, if he didn’t have arms, Gabe wouldn’t be able to hide in his work. Yes, a life without arms would be quite tragic, indeed.

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    Finding out that you are not your lover’s only lover hurts, but not as much as discovering that you are the side chick … or the side dick.

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    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.

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    Everyone has a heart, but not everyone listens to another's

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    For a moment, Blake said nothing. After chewing on her venom for a moment, he shrugged. “I would rather you hate me for who I am than love me for who I’m not.

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    Heartbreak comes in many forms: infidelity, lies, or a simple, old fashioned break-up. But, there's another reason no one ever thinks about when it comes to heartbreak. It's something that outweighs the fear of being alone, and tells the brokenhearted individual that he or she will never find love again.

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    Greatness is not in being unbroken, but in being a blessing even after being broken, like bread, like a seed that dies yet rises again.

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    Get up, work out, eat well, enjoy the moment, be present and show up for people who need your love; family, friends, less privileged, your followers. Appreciate love and remember, the journey is more important than the destination.

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    God's breath is like a fresh wind that renews us. Frail and weak as we are,we have hope. We find healing.

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    He could leave. I could leave. We could both end up heartbroken, sitting on the floor of our souls and trying to piece together our lives again. But, we could also find forever. We could take the next steps together—toward a year, five, or maybe, forever. And that was a game worth playing.

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    Help me O God! The pain of separation seems more painful to me than death itself. I don't know how much longer I can carry on. Help me carry on this day Lord. Help me to let go, I pray. Though I may not forget, help me to remember how you have always carried me through. Though the pain may not yet go away, assist me in carrying this cross with hope in my heart.

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

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    He was acting like our kiss had broken him, and his reaction was breaking me.

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    Her heart is played like well worn strings In her eyes the sadness sings Of one who was destined of better things

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    He was heartbroken, I say. Heartbroken, he repeats. Of course. That's the great myth Edward Monkford's spun around himself, isn't it? The tormented genius who lost the love of his life and became an arch-minimalist as a result. You don't think that's right? I know it isn't.

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    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.

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    His hand reached up to his chest and rubbed at the area over his heart as if it hurt him.

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    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?

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    How did we keep getting so lost in a midnight world? Why did we continue lamenting as we wounded our hearts and were cut apart?