Best 1596 quotes in «heartbreak quotes» category

You can miss places. You can miss people. Just know that what you’re really missing is the way things were. And even if you could go there again…. see them again…. you can’t go back. They’re not the same. You’re not the same. The loss of them changed you.

You cannot control the way people treat you, but you can control how you feel about the way they treat you. Simply put, you cannot choose people's actions but you can decide your reactions.

You can only trust your emotions as you can lie to yourself with your brain but not your heart.

You can obsess and obsess over how things ended—what you did wrong or could have done differently—but there's not much of a point. It's not like it'll change anything. So really, why worry?

You can only heal a broken heart through allowing it to open again; a closed heart remains a wounded heart. Many battles may be lost but you are not broken and you are not your wounds.

You can't be the cause and the cure, mon amour.

You can’t be friends with someone you have feelings for. It’ll just be a constant reminder of what you can’t have. It’s like putting boiling water in an ice cold glass. It’s gonna bust and make a mess.

You can't afford to let the heartbreaks in life ruin your future.

You can't protect him from being hurt, babe, no mattter what you do. Being vulnerable, letting people in, getting hurt...it's all a part of being in love.

You can't wander around and think the wandering will call them back.

You can’t truly heal from a loss until you allow yourself to really FEEL the loss.

You can’t turn love on and off like a light switch, no matter how hard you try. All you can do is wall it off, one brick at a time, until you’ve created an impenetrable fortress around your emotions. And once that fortress is built, you camouflage it so well that even you can’t see it anymore.

You die at heart from a withdrawal of love.

You don’t see me the way I see you. Can’t you feel how my heart breaks every time I try to talk to you? I’m trying so hard to give you my best. While you give me ignorance and this terrible pain in my chest.

You don't understand," she says. "It's my fault." "Darling, don't say that. Don't even think it." I try to reach my arm around her back, but she pulls away. She squeezes the bag to her chest. "It's true," she says. "I haven't been the perfect wife. I've done things I regret, I know that now. Stupid things. But I never thought it'd come to this." She grabs me by the arm. There's a mad kind of look that could lead to anything. "I blame myself, at least for part of it. I have to go after him. I'm not going to rot away, the way Mum did. I need him to see me. This is my last chance." So of course I find her keys, and her phone, and I think about what to tell the girls while she books her flight to Noosa.

You dump trash. You dump yard waste and old ripped couches that smell like body odor and forgetfulness. You dump cigarette butts and banana peels and hazardous waste. But people?

You fool, Helene. When you love, there is always more pain.

You have found love in your heart - and out of small changes come great things.

You have my heart, but I don’t know what you want with it.

... You have to stop this from happening," I whispered, meeting his penetrating stare, pleading for him to see what was written in my eyes that I couldn't form into words. "What would you give me if I could?" he asked as he strolled across the room, getting closer to the bed where I still sat. "What would you want?" I asked, afraid it would be more than I could give him. "You," he said, falling to his knees in front of me. "I'd want you, Synthia, to do as I wished with for the rest of my life. You would be mine, completely. I'd want you at my mercy, to taste, and touch when I wanted you" "Ryder," I whispered as I brought my hands up to cradle his face between them. He looked exposed on his knees, and I wanted to kiss away my pain and his.

You know I don’t want to leave you, right?” I nod, but still don’t speak. He opens and closes his mouth, runs his fingers through the length of my ponytail. “I love you, Chloe. Say the word and I’ll call Dell right now and take it all back. I’ll stay here with you any day, darlin’. I need you to know that.” Tears swim in my eyes as I try to force out the words I know I have to say. He can’t do that for me. I’m not worth it. And it’s not fair to the other three. I choke down a sob and he pulls me into his chest. “I love you, too, but you can’t stay now. You gave your word. I thought we’d talked about your white knight tendencies.” My voice is muffled by the soft flannel of his shirt, but he understands. “Chloe, I’d do anything for you, to hell with the rest of the world.” He says into my hair. His arms are tight around me, holding me against him like I might disappear if he lets go.

You kidnapped my heart and left her dancing under the moonlight, all covered in red roses petals... (Excerpted from My confession, chapter Pain)

You know I want to be a directos, but you could never truly see the movies in my head and that, Ed, is why we broke up.

You know, the heart is meant to be your life support, I was a fool to give her my heart. She affected my life support greatly and I know that I will never be the same without her again.

You'll always be the deepest scar on my heart.

You live to poison every beautiful flower that you come in contact with - I pray for the next girl you may or may not destroy

You'll be able to find the strength to love someone just that much again once you've recovered from the heartbreak

You left me yet you did not leave I broke down yet I did not break.

You make every case for marriage but love.

You made me feel worthwhile…. like for once it mattered if I was here or not because I actually meant something to someone…. because I meant something to you. I miss that feeling.

You may fall in love more than once but there will always be that one love that will burn your soul... forever and always.

You left with my soul in your fists and my heart in your teeth, and I don’t want either of them back.” ~Ben

You may right now be nursing a broken heart. Friends will say, "Aren't you glad you had the experience anyway?" And you may say "No." Eventually, unbelievably, you may not remember the boy that triggered it all. You'll recall all the places you visited, but not how you got there. You'll remember the songs that you listened to.

You might think that nobody’s insides are as messy as your insides. That’s an optical delusion. You only see other people’s outsides – never their insides. So you can’t possibly know.

You only love me when it's convenient for you.

You never forget someone you've loved once.

You reached into my chest with your words. When you spoke, my heart danced. Love muddled thoughts based in reason. Interest withered like a flower in dry heat then your words wrapped themselves around my heart and yanked it from my body. Now I stand bewildered by the sight of my heart beating on the cold concrete floor.

You're a shit cake with cum for whipped cream and dynamite for candles.

You’re everything to me. But at best, I’m just a memory to you.

You're like a band-aid that is slowly ripping off, and I'm still wounded!

You're lucky. You're getting this over with now. You only fall in love for the first time once." "That's very Taylor Swift of you," I say.

You’re thinking, maybe it would be easier to let it slip let it go say ”I give up” one last time and give him a sad smile. You’re thinking it shouldn’t be this hard, shouldn’t be this dark, thinking love could flow easily with no holding back and you’ve seen others find their match and build something great together, of each other, like two halves fitting perfectly and now they achieve great things one by one, always together, and it seems grand. But you love him. Love him like a black stone in your chest you couldn’t live without because it fits in there. Makes you who you are and the thought of him gone—no more—makes your chest tighten up and maybe this is your fairytale. Maybe this is your castle. You could get it all on a shiny piece of glass with wooden stools and a neverending blooming garden but that’s not yours. This is yours. The cracks and the faults, the ugly words in the winter walking home alone and angry but falling asleep thinking you love him. This is your fairy tale. The quiet in the hallway, wishing for him to turn around, tell you to stay, tell you to please don’t go I need you like you need me and maybe it’s not a Jane Austen novel but this is your novel and your castle and you can run from it your whole life but this is here in front of you. Maybe nurture it? Sweet girl, maybe close the world off and look at him for an hour or two. This is your fairy. It ain’t perfect and it ain’t honey sweet with roses on the bed. It’s real and raw and ugly at times. But this is your love. Don’t throw it away searching for someone else’s love. Don’t be greedy. Instead, shelter it. Protect it. Capture every second of easy, pull through every storm of hardship. And when you can, look at him, lying next to you, trusting you not to harm him. Trusting you not to go. Be someone’s someone for someone. Be that someone for him. That’s your fairy tale. This is your castle. Now move in. Build a home. Build a house. Build a safety around things you love. It’s yours if you make it so. Welcome home, sweet girl, it will be all be fine.

Your first love isn't the first person you give your heart to- it's the first one who beaks it.

Your first relationship is with yourself. In order to cultivate the relationship with yourself, you must first understand you are not your learned behaviors or beliefs, you are not the constructs of your learned love behaviors, you are not your personality but your personality is the way in which you are currently choosing to express your perceptions.

Your fear of becoming a cliche is what turns you into one. If you remove the fear, we are all really walking contradictions, hypocrites and paradoxical cliches

Your heart doesn't think. Your heart is stupid. It doesn't consider the relativity of tragedy when it breaks.

Your infatuation will end in tears.

Your memory feels like home to me. So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds it’s way back to you.

You’re different, Elli. You’re unlike anyone else, it’s because of that…’ ‘How can a Prince, how can someone like you be seen with me? I get it, Evan, its fine.’ ‘It’s because of that, I want you.

You're the optimist all the way through, pretending to be a pessimist on the inside, because you can act like it hurts less if you say you knew all along it was going to go down like that.