Best 1596 quotes in «heartbreak quotes» category

Intense feelings of any kind keep people with you. Some you may want, others you won't. To forget people, and you never really forget, feel indifference.

In that one moment, I wrapped a thousand others. A lifetime of joy, sorrow, laughter, frowns, smiles, tears... life!

In the Eastern story, the heavy slab that was to fall on the bed of state in the flush of conquest was slowly wrought out of the quarry, the tunnel of the rope to hold it in its place was slowly carried through the leagues of rock, the slab was slowly raised and fitted in the roof, the rope to the great iron ring. All being made ready with much labour, and the hour come, the sultan was aroused in the dead of the night, and the sharpened axe that was to sever the rope from the great iron ring was put into his hand, and he struck with it, and the rope parted and rushed away, and the ceiling fell. So, in my case; all the work, near and afar, that tended to the end had been accomplished, and in an instant the blow was struck, and the roof of my stronghold dropped upon me.

In the end it was my blood that was spilled on the sheets. I won't forget the girl I was before you, and the girl I became after.

In the first book of the Bible it is written that: "The Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.” In another translation it is written like this: "God was sorry that he had made the human race in the first place; it broke his heart.” "It grieved him to his heart." "It broke his heart." We grieved him to his heart. We broke his heart. God’s heart can be…broken? You cannot love without being vulnerable - because love involves the risk of the person you’re loving not loving you back, of rejecting you - and that hurts. That grieves you to your heart. God had created man, and He loved them - but they didn’t love Him back, and it broke His heart.

In the pause that followed, Shane understood why people said their hearts broke. She always thought it was a weak metaphor of strong emotion. She could feel each bit of shrapnel from her heart stab at her stomach and lungs. Her knees gave out beneath her as she heard the voice tell her what she already knew in her fragments of cardiac tissue.

In this world there are two types of people: the ones who hurt, and the ones who are hurt. But if we all claim to be the victims, then aren't we all the criminals too?

I pour another drink and wash the taste of dashed dreams from the back of my tongue. I feel half-dead, but my broken heart somehow still beats. What a stubborn, senseless organ, to keep going when all hope and happiness are lost.

i promise you that i won't promise you anymore.,,,

I played until my lips gave out on cigarettes and thoughts of you.

I realized I was afraid of living without him. How is it you have the right to destroy my life, I wanted to demand of him, but I’m not allowed a say in yours? -Lou

I push him from my mind. This is no act of easy omission on my part; I do not consign him casually to a forgotten past. It is rather an act of will--a kind of self-performed surgery on my soul...the bloodiest of mutilations.

I read once that the best thing that can happen to a woman is to get her heart broken. Before that, she has no real sense of herself. No real sense of pain, because only in love does she know what it’s like to find the one thing that gives her breath and then to lose it. After that she knows she can survive. No matter what relationships come and go, she can count on herself to pull through, and although it hurts, the break is necessary.

I realised I really didn’t know what I was doing and I felt her trace drowning in the middle of the cars and the people, in the middle of the streets and far away, in the secrets she so jealously kept. I felt it. We were ever so close, ever so far.

I realized that that was how heartbreak occurred. Your heart wants something, but reality resists it. Death is inert and heavy, and it has no relation to your heart's desires.

I realize my heart is forever Inexperienced. It does fall for the same tricks over and over again

I remember all the things we said we'd do And how not a single thing we said was true

I remember touching her hand for the first time. I remember kissing her angelic soft lips for the first time . Everything seemed so easy , everything seemed possible . She smiled at me and flew away

I remembered only the good and loveable things about him, not the wretchedness he caused me, and the dope, and the resentments and silence and the half-crazy outbursts. I remembered his smell and the colour of his eyes and his head thrown back to laugh; these things were a second away, in time, but the others I dredged up dutifully, knowing that I must, for the sake of truth and sanity, try to keep a balance.

I remember the way love used to glow on my skin before he made his way in now every touch feels like a sin

I returned from the village. The house seemed unbearably dull. But I bore it. "There is no escape from loneliness and separation...." I told myself often. "Wife, child, brothers, parents, friends.... We come together only to go apart again. It is one continuous movement. They move away from us as we move away from them. The law of life can't be avoided. The law comes into operation the moment we detach ourselves from our mother's womb. All struggle and misery in life is due to our attempt to arrest this law or get away from it or in allowing ourselves to be hurt by it. The fact must be recognized. A profound unmitigated loneliness is the only truth of life. All else is false.

I said ”I love you so much it’s killing me” and you kept saying sorry so I stopped explaining for it never made sense to you what always did to me to let what you love kill you and never regret. As Romeo is dying Juliet says ”I am willing to die to remain by your side” and love was never a static place of rest but the last second of euphoria while throwing yourself out from a 20 store window to be able to say ”I flew before I hit the ground”, and it was glorious. Don’t be sorry. The fall was beautiful, dear. The crash was beautiful.

I said I love you when what I meant to say was "I’m afraid of being alone." I said I need you when what I meant to say was "I need to learn how to love myself.

I say, "You a kind girl," and she nod, repeat it back to me. But before I can do another one, she get up and chase that poor dog around the yard and laugh and that's when I get to wondering, what would happen if I told her she something good, ever day?

I see how it is,” I snapped. “You were all in favor of me breaking the tattoo and thinking on my own—but that’s only okay if it’s convenient for you, huh? Just like your ‘loving from afar’ only works if you don’t have an opportunity to get your hands all over me. And your lips. And . . . stuff.” Adrian rarely got mad, and I wouldn’t quite say he was now. But he was definitely exasperated. “Are you seriously in this much self-denial, Sydney? Like do you actually believe yourself when you say you don’t feel anything? Especially after what’s been happening between us?” “Nothing’s happening between us,” I said automatically. “Physical attraction isn’t the same as love. You of all people should know that.” “Ouch,” he said. His expression hadn’t changed, but I saw hurt in his eyes. I’d wounded him. “Is that what bothers you? My past? That maybe I’m an expert in an area you aren’t?” “One I’m sure you’d just love to educate me in. One more girl to add to your list of conquests.” He was speechless for a few moments and then held up one finger. “First, I don’t have a list.” Another finger, “Second, if I did have a list, I could find someone a hell of lot less frustrating to add to it.” For the third finger, he leaned toward me. “And finally, I know that you know you’re no conquest, so don’t act like you seriously think that. You and I have been through too much together. We’re too close, too connected. I wasn’t that crazy on spirit when I said you’re my flame in the dark. We chase away the shadows around each other. Our backgrounds don’t matter. What we have is bigger than that. I love you, and beneath all that logic, calculation, and superstition, I know you love me too. Running away and fleeing all your problems isn’t going to change that. You’re just going to end up scared and confused.” “I already feel that way,” I said quietly. Adrian moved back and leaned into his seat, looking tired. “Well, that’s the most accurate thing you’ve said so far.” I grabbed the basket and jerked open the car door. Without another word, I stormed off, refusing to look back in case he saw the tears that had inexplicably appeared in my eyes. Only, I wasn’t sure exactly which part of our conversation I was most upset about.

I say, "Well then I don't know if it was real, and that makes me feel like I'm going insane again." "Absolutely it was real. It was a real, partial picture. Because it ended preemptively, things you would have learned about him in the relationship, you are instead learning in the breakup. You have learned that he has a desperate desire for intimacy and then a desperate desire for the cave. He will get lonely there eventually and come back." "To me?" He doesn't pause. "To someone new." "And I'll have to watch another girl?" "You will have to, but you will also know what lies ahead for that poor girl.

I scrub my skin to rid me from you and I still don’t know why I cried. It was just something in the way you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldn’t recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done. Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way, look better this way, to you and us and all the rest. But then you must have changed your mind or made a wrong because why did you leave?

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

I sent word to my love-crazed brother, informing him of the news of the wedding of his beloved and reminding him that this love is a hollow emotion – is gilt, not gold - and the so-called beloveds, faithless people, and that his efforts must henceforth be directed towards worthier objects. But there is an inborn antagonism between love and reason, Sirs?

I saw you and i knew, more or less, now or in far away time you would shape a chapter in my story that i would spend a lifetime trying to forget.

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.

Is it too aggressive of me to say I want to rip the past into shreds? I cannot change how I feel, and you cannot change how catastrophically this ended. I do not want to remember anything— not you,      not how my heart heals differently now. I want you to stop existing in the past as easily as you stopped existing in my future.

I stand still for a long time, holding the note, and let it all sink in. Her leaving is almost palpable like a gale-force wind that’s rolled into my life in the span of a single evening and left behind all this incalculable destruction, both inside and out. Yes, the tempest has passed, but the air around me feels different. I can hardly breathe. Nothing is the same without her. As the lone survivor of her particular storm, I begin to wonder just exactly what I’m supposed to do now.

I stood in your doorway this morning dreaming you’d turn around you’d tilt your head you’d softly whisper ”stay” or that you’d grab my arms to shake me while asking what the hell are we doing we love each other and this is not right so we will make this work now stay! You poured your coffee. Stirred the spoon like a crystal man with your back to me and not a sound. the fridge humming elegies while the clock ticked on and the streets are so clean here people rushing to work and maybe I should be too by now at this age this stage this town. I will stand in that doorway dreaming for many nights to come.

It ain't the man a woman cares for that reaps the harvest of passion, you know: it's the next man that comes along after she's lost the other one.

It all keeps coming back in flashes. Churns you, burns you till it turns you into ashes.

It began long ago, when God created the stars when shadows were made of light when angels embraced the horizon when souls danced over this realm then, you were mine... (Excerpted from In bliss, chapter Pain)

I skipped toward him and gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek. “Yup.” He looked at me like I was crazy. “What was that for?” I smiled. “For being an excellent partner in crime.

Is the whole world doomed to emotional trauma?

I still wake longing for your touch Skin open wound raw because I was told that's the only way to heal. I couldn't tame you you weren't meant for domestication meant to roam free but I still remember the first time you said "I love you" a whisper barely audible afraid of choking on your words or mine you preferred me voiceless blank stare submissive swallowing back years of lost time waiting for you to change.

I take it as a compliment when somebody calls me crazy. I would be offended if I was one of the sheeple, one of the sleepwalkers in the matrix or part of the collective hallucination we call 'normal

It all happened when he saw that rich man’s daughter - his senses forsook him - and to impress the father he set out for foreign lands to become rich himself. Of course in the meantime the girl was engaged to be married to another man. Why must tales of love be sweet for folks like us?

It didn’t hurt me. Not “hurt”. Hurt is a four letter word. It’s short, almost cute sounding. Aawwww, did that hurt? No. It didn’t hurt. Destroyed, Obliterated, Desecrated, Annihilated, Demolished, Shattered, or Demoralised maybe… But no. It didn’t hurt me. It didn’t “hurt” me at all.

It didn't matter how wonderful Andrew was and how much effort he was prepared to put into their relationship. While Lou didn't feel the same way, his love was only building a tower without foundations.

It could have been avoided. This couch misery spiral, this … loss … I could’ve avoided the bulk of it simply by doing more. I could’ve given a shit...

It could be yesterday when I was less in love I think For I didn’t see you in the mirror behind me while getting dressed. The way your hands couldn’t stay away and our bodies always found their ways back to each other as if they were meant to be together Close. But then it was today and I saw you again in the mirror behind me while getting dressed So I go to sleep tonight alone without actually falling asleep because I’m scared of the moment I will wake up and realise it was just a dream You’re actually gone. Now all I can do is get through to another tomorrow hoping that I will be less in love again Like yesterday But not today. I was never really well with things at all.

It doesn’t work,” she continues, unclasping her hands, smoothing her skirt. “What you’re feeling right now doesn’t work. You can’t wander around and think the wandering will call them back. Believe me. I know you don’t want to hear the long view, but let me tell you. You are so young. I know it’s none of my business. But still.

I tell her that the best thing to do when you fall is to get up, And she is up, so she's moving in the right direction.

It felt dangerous, that feeling, something she couldn't control, that got bigger even as she tried to banish it, to tell herself that these were the feelings that hurt you eventually, that destroyed lives, that needed to be ignored. She'd followed her heart once, when she was too young to know how completely a heart could be shattered.

I think it would shock most people if they really knew what we have each survived by the time we graduate high school.