Best 573 quotes in «goodbye quotes» category

Faith," said Jem. "That you were better than you thought you were. Forgiveness, that you need not always punish yourself. I always loved you, Will. Whatever you did. And now I need you to do for me what I connot do for myself. For you to be my eyes when I do not have them. For you to be my hands when I cannot use my own. For you to be my heart when mine is done with beating.

Farewell Pony: Our little friend, the Pony, is to run no more ... Thou wert the pioneer of a continent in the rapid transmission of intelligence between its peoples, and have dragged in your train the lightning itself, which, in good time, will be followed by steam communication by rail. Rest upon your honors ... Rest then, in peace; for thou hast run thy race, thou hast followed thy course, thou hast done the work that was given thee to do. - Sacramento Daily Bee, October 26,1861

Farewell - though it sounds very tragic - is sometimes the best exit from the hell of unhappiness!

Feel so fucking angry; don't want to be reminded of you, But when I left my shit in your kitchen, I said goodbye to your bedroom it smelled of you

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea, Thy tribute wave deliver: No more by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever. Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea, A rivulet then a river: Nowhere by thee my steps shall be For ever and for ever. But here will sigh thine alder tree And here thine aspen shiver; And here by thee will hum the bee, For ever and for ever. A thousand suns will stream on thee, A thousand moons will quiver; But not by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever.

for every goodbye, God also provides a hello

Forgive me," he said in a hard voice. "My heart is breaking over here. I'm doing the best I can.

Goodbye forever" is the perfect joke, because forever is impossible. Every night I say it, and every morning I see my father again. Forever is meaningless. Tough talk, an empty threat. Forever is our secret handshake. Our code word. Our decoder ring. Not a measurement of time at all. I know this because "Goodbye Forever" comes easily. The passage of actual time is much more difficult.

Goodbye” is the best ever gift that you can receive from worse friends. Never hesitate to wave it back. Be bold to say “no” to what always keeps you static!

Goodbye sunny Hawaiian beach, hello snowy Mauna Kea.

Goodbye Stevie, I’m sorry for leaving you, but when you find out about me, as you definitely will do one day, then you’ll be glad I’m gone too.

Hello fentanyl, goodbye world.

Hello high altitude astronomy, goodbye health.

Hello International Space Station, goodbye civilization.

He left that morning, the last words still echoing in my head, and though he said he’d come back one day I know a broken promise from a right one for I have used them myself and there is no coming back. Minds like ours are can’t be tamed and the price for freedom is the price we pay.

Hello insanity, goodbye reality.

Hello and goodbye are the same. Baya ban,” she said. “As many times as you can stand it.

Hello and good-bye." What else is there to say? Our language is much larger than it needs to be.

Hello heaven, goodbye gun.

Hello suicide, goodbye problems.

Hello suicide, goodbye intolerable pain.

I always hate saying 'goodbye.

I am leaving, but I am living. I will not be gone from you entirely, Will. When you fight now, I will be still by you. When you walk in the world, I will be the light at your side, the ground steady under your feet, the force that drives the sword in your hand.

I believe that sometimes, the moment you say goodbye could be as painful as a lifetime worth of pain that you can experience while living with the memories of your loved ones. I couldn’t stop myself from hallucinating about all those things that could have happened, while you were walking away from me today. I stopped walking and turned my head, expecting for you to do the same. I stayed there, motionless, and waited – for you to turn once, to smile, or wave. But you didn’t. You just continued walking away from me, while I stayed there watching your silhouette becoming smaller, and smaller with time, until it disappeared completely. There was nothing else to wait. “What happened?” she asked me when I turned my head again towards the platform. “She let me go, finally,” was all I could say.

I did care... I did say everything I thought In the mildest words I knew. And now,... I have to say I'm relieved it is over: At the end I could feel only pity For that urge toward more life. ...Goodbye

I don't like songs about wanting things. I like songs about letting go, saying goodbye.

I don't write about you because you don't deserve to be immortalised in my words. I'll leave you to float around in my mind until forgetfulness comes to take you away.

I go to the ocean to say goodbye.

I guess saying goodbye makes us reach out for those we would ordinarily ignore. Maybe we care about them more, too, when it is time to part.

I had to get out of there for my face showed too much, the war in my body was dragging me down. My feet refused to carry me over to him again. The wind of my life was blowing me away.

I have died at the ripe age of twenty. Smile, for the world didn't get a chance to disappoint me. I have died at the mature age of ninety. Smile, for my life was more than satisfying. I have died suddenly—out of the blue. Smile, for I didn't have to fall ill before you. I have died from a long illness. Smile, for I had the chance to say goodbye. I did not want to leave this Earth. But smile, for I am still here among you. Why are you crying? Can you not see I am smiling?

I have to go home, Masi. You are my home, bella. I am lost without you. He couldn’t speak. There were no words to recoil the loss consuming him. Massimo brought his hands up to her face. Kissing her one last time. He had to for his sanity. And he did with great passion, knowing he’d hurt her face when she kissed him back. But she did. He heard the cry in her throat as their tongues danced. Warm tears touched his palms as they continued to kiss. His fingertips were wet with sadness. He kept on kissing her. Unable to stop, he needed ten more seconds. Ti amo, I love you. Please don’t leave. I’ve waited my whole life for you. When he pulled his face back, she cried, and he realized he did also.

"I...love you...Rylan. But do not fear...I'll be seeing you...again...I am...forever watching..." She breathes her last. The fire races across her face and through her hair. I watch as she lifted up with the rising smoke.

I lean back against the velvet-cushioned seat and close my eyes to the sound of hooves pounding hard against the cobblestone streets. Their clip-clopping harmony keeping perfect tempo with the rumble of carriage wheels, affording a sound as sweet as any symphony I've ever heard. It's the sound of escape The sound of goodbye A sound that's served to soothe me in the past, providing the much-needed assurance that the unwelcome inquiries and suspicions of newly alerted acquaintances would soon fade - allowing for a brief respite in a new location, before I'm on the move again. I'm a gypsy. A nomad. A vagabond. A drifter.

I love you too, but my time with you has passed.

I’m floating. I’m flowing. I’m loving, but I’m going.

I murmur something that sounds like “goodbye” but tastes like “hello.

I need to let him go.

I never want a girl to lose all hope that her life can’t completely turn around, even if she feels that she is at the edge, standing on one foot, and ready to say goodbye.

In late October of 1962, it was our turn to go. Miss Hanrahan appeared in her state Ford Rambler, which, by that point, seemed more like a hearse than a nice lady’s car. Our belongings were packed in a brown bags. The ladies in the kitchen, familiar with our love of food, made us twelve fried-fish sandwiches each large enough to feed eight grown men and wrapped them in tinfoil for the ride ahead of us. Miss Louisa, drenched with tears, walked us to the car and before she let go of my hand she said, “When you a big, grown man, you come back and see Miss Louisa, you hear?” “But,” I said, “you won’t know who I am. I’ll be big.” “No, child,” she said as she gave me her last hug, “you always know forever the peoples you love. They with you forever. They don’t never leave you.” She was right, of course. Those we love never leave us because we carry them with us in our hearts and a piece of us is within them. They change with us and they grow old with us and with time, they are a part of us, and thank God for that.

In Manchester while walking down the roads, we come across so many faces full of tears and saying goodbye friend see you soon. They cherish the year long bonding and wish each other good luck. This is the beauty of Manchester, it rules the hearts of millions forever and ever. It blossoms the relationships and nurture them in just a short span of time.

In this, journey, of reaching, to myself, I have had, many a, thoroughfares, goodbye affairs, reality checks, and, lovely overwhelms.

I said it grieved me to part from anything that mattered to me, yet I welcomed the grief because it meant I had felt deeply and needed to express it. 'I even had trouble leaving the Parthenon,' I told him ... 'because it was so beautiful and I knew I'd never see it again.

I sleep and wake up to your picture in my mind, I live hoping to hear from you one day, I miss you but can’t say it, just remember the happy moments we had, Remember me and smile, better than forget me and say goodbye.

I suppose we all see colors outside our usual spectrum in certain people. And the saddest part of life is having known what it looks like and saying goodbye while a quiet part of you hopelessly searches for it forever in shades of blue, red, and yellow. Perhaps all my writing is just a telling to others of the color I saw.

It had been a long fifteen years. So much had changed in both their lives. Both hearts somehow sadly hardened. “Let us just make it through,” Claire whispered her desperate plea. It was her only prayer, one she said over and over again. An almost cynical laugh erupted out of her as she turned one last time to say goodbye to her father’s tombstone. That was her prayer? That was all she could come up with to say to God? Then so be it.

FaraWell or Goodbye it really doesn't matter it shows one magic. If you find it, you are a magician!

Fly you high, Gregor the Overlander. Fly you high!

For that is the meaning of a farewell in the full, important sense of the word: that the two people, because they part, come to an understanding of how they have seen and experienced each other. What succeeded between them and what failed. That takes fearlessness: you have to be able to endure the pain of dissonance. It is also about acknowledging what was impossible. Parting is also something you do with yourself: to stand by yourself under the look of the other. The cowardice of a farewell resides in the transfiguration: in the attempt to bathe what was in a golden light and deny the dark. What you forfeit in that is nothing less than the acknowledgement of your self in those features produced by darkness.

From all my dreams where you felt everlasting to all my clothes your words used to wear, to the old end, to the new beginning, you have lost me everywhere.