Best 1596 quotes in «heartbreak quotes» category

Some days you'r just a wisp of nothingness. But other days... most days, I hear you in a song, I see you in an image, I feel you in my memories!

Someday you will wake up feeling 51 percent happy and slowly, molecule by molecule, you will feel like yourself again.

Some heartbreaks are strange!

Some of us have hearts, you know. Some of us don't give up on true love.

Somehow everything I own smells of you, and for the tiniest moment it's all not true

Some people don't care if they live or they die. Some people want to know what it feels like to fly. They gather their courage and they give it a try And fall under the wheels of time going by.

Some relationships are like french fries. They look good, taste good but they are bad for your health & heart.

Some people will label you as vindictive, unforgiving or even evil for not allowing them to hurt you, yet again.

Sometimes I can feel my darkness, like a fragment of nerves inside of me somewhere, sparking my hate. I picture it moving throughout my body, the other cells letting it pass by, yielding to its master. It moves to my tongue when it wants me to spew beautiful, damaging words, it moves to my hands when it wants me to feel all it can take away, and it moves to my eyes to blind me from truly seeing the destruction I’ve done.

Some people are just time bombs, waiting to explode. Inevitably taking with them anyone foolish enough too get close. You were my time bomb, waiting to detonate my heart & leave ruins in the wake of your aftermath. And I was naive enough to have ignored that eminent threat.

Sometimes I think my scars are beautiful, but then I remember not everyone shares the same love of art.

Sometimes it takes a heartbreak to shake us awake & help us see we are worth so much more than we're settling for.

Sometimes it takes getting pushed to the very edge before you can find your voice and courage to speak out again. Sometimes it takes hitting that rock bottom to realize you’re done descending, and it’s time to rise. Sometimes it takes being told you’re nothing—being made to feel like you’re nothing—to help you see that you are complete. YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

Sometimes silence is the best therapy for the broken souls.

Sometimes I wonder how many heartbreaks a heart can take ..

Sometimes you get everything you ever wanted, only it doesn't look like what you wanted anymore.

Sometimes you have to deprive someone of the pleasure of being with you so that they can realize how much they need you in their lives...

Some of us die long before our last breath. We perish in the fire of love, reduced to ashes in the consuming blaze. No, we do not die when our hearts cease to beat, but when they start beating the first time for somebody else.

Sometimes... Sometimes our hearts...crack a little.

Sometimes there's not much difference between a heartsick soul and a suck ole donkey.

Sometimes the toughest of them come with the softest of hearts.

...Sometimes you fall in love.....and then you wake up from your dream....

Sometimes you're going to have to let one person go a thousand different times, a thousand different ways, and there's nothing pathetic or abnormal about that. You are human.

Sometimes you have to give up on people. Not because you don't care but because they don't. A person's actions will tell you everything you need to know. Love yourself enough to say goodbye to those who don't make time for you or don't know how to love you back. Let go of what hurts, even if it hurts to let go." ~ Jennifer Green

Some wounds are so deep, that if you were to reach in their depth, you wouldn't find a way back.

Soon after the completion of his college course, his whole nature was kindled into one intense and passionate effervescence of romantic passion. His hour came,—the hour that comes only once; his star rose in the horizon,—that star that rises so often in vain, to be remembered only as a thing of dreams; and it rose for him in vain. To drop the figure,—he saw and won the love of a high-minded and beautiful woman, in one of the northern states, and they were affianced. He returned south to make arrangements for their marriage, when, most unexpectedly, his letters were returned to him by mail, with a short note from her guardian, stating to him that ere this reached him the lady would be the wife of another. Stung to madness, he vainly hoped, as many another has done, to fling the whole thing from his heart by one desperate effort. Too proud to supplicate or seek explanation, he threw himself at once into a whirl of fashionable society, and in a fortnight from the time of the fatal letter was the accepted lover of the reigning belle of the season; and as soon as arrangements could be made, he became the husband of a fine figure, a pair of bright dark eyes, and a hundred thousand dollars; and, of course, everybody thought him a happy fellow. The married couple were enjoying their honeymoon, and entertaining a brilliant circle of friends in their splendid villa, near Lake Pontchartrain, when, one day, a letter was brought to him in that well-remembered writing. It was handed to him while he was in full tide of gay and successful conversation, in a whole room-full of company. He turned deadly pale when he saw the writing, but still preserved his composure, and finished the playful warfare of badinage which he was at the moment carrying on with a lady opposite; and, a short time after, was missed from the circle. In his room,alone, he opened and read the letter, now worse than idle and useless to be read. It was from her, giving a long account of a persecution to which she had been exposed by her guardian's family, to lead her to unite herself with their son: and she related how, for a long time, his letters had ceased to arrive; how she had written time and again, till she became weary and doubtful; how her health had failed under her anxieties, and how, at last, she had discovered the whole fraud which had been practised on them both. The letter ended with expressions of hope and thankfulness, and professions of undying affection, which were more bitter than death to the unhappy young man. He wrote to her immediately: I have received yours,—but too late. I believed all I heard. I was desperate. I am married, and all is over. Only forget,—it is all that remains for either of us." And thus ended the whole romance and ideal of life for Augustine St. Clare. But the real remained,—the real, like the flat, bare, oozy tide-mud, when the blue sparkling wave, with all its company of gliding boats and white-winged ships, its music of oars and chiming waters, has gone down, and there it lies, flat, slimy, bare,—exceedingly real. Of course, in a novel, people's hearts break, and they die, and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us.

So this— This is agony. This is what they talk about when they talk about heartbreak. I thought I knew what it was like before. I thought I knew, with perfect clarity, what it felt like to have my heart broken, but now—now I finally understand.

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the time for him to leave was approaching: "Oh!", said the fox. "I am going to cry." "It's your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any harm; but you wanted me to tame you..." "I know," said the fox. "And now you're going to cry!" said the little prince. "I know," said the fox. "So you have gained nothing from it at all!" "Yes, I have gained something," said the fox, "because of the colour of the corn.

so the poem hurt you. it was supposed to.

So you're gone and i'm haunted And i bet you are just fine Did i make it that easy to walk Right in and out of my life

Speak to the breeze cautiously during those lonely summer nights.

Spilled Ink It seemed unfair And unfinished, And now it would always be tragic. Because you kept Loving them Even when the story ended. And there was nowhere To spill the ink Of the heartbreak their absence wrote.

Sometimes you just find a culture that breaks your heart,” she said finally.

Sometimes the heart breaks... Sometimes you break... Sometimes you break your heart by breaking yourself for someone who wouldn't do the same...

Stop being so emotional." "No, stop playing with my emotions.

Stab me in the heart; once, twice, more. For it is your own you are stabbing; I gave you mine to hold long ago. No pain will be greater than you leaving with my heart in your hands. Rip me apart or hold it for eternity, in the name of love.

Stepping back from her, Adam ran the scarf through his fingers, continuing to hold her gaze steadily while trying to decide whether he wanted to blindfold her or bind her with it. “Undress for me, Willow.

Strange, how we often hate the ones who save us and love the ones that are like poison.

Study yourself. Become your own mentor and best friend. When you are suffering stay at the bottom until you find out who you are. Let the storms come and pass. How you walk through the fire says a lot about you. Nobody likes a victimhood mentality and what happened to you is not important. It is about how you use your chaos that matters. The dawn will come

Stupid. This was all so stupid. We had already broken up. I’d done all my crying. I’d vented to Emily and my mom – remapped my future into a life that didn’t include him. So why did I feel as raw and vulnerable as I had the moment he broke up with me?

Suffer" he commanded seductively. "With me...or because of me.

Suffering is so real & I walk amongst so many who have no idea how much my soul is aching to be healed.

Standing at a certain distance, you might have a different perception of me and my tiny universe. But darling, is my love too less or are you blind to walk away from a universe that only consists of you?

Sudah terlalu banyak hati yang meluka, karena sesuatu yang mereka sebut cinta.

Suppression also played another tragic role. By burying my pain, by avoiding my heartaches, I lost touch with knowing and owning what was important to me. I no longer went within, which was a scary road. If you were once attacked on a road, you make sure to avoid it. But the avoidance means you also miss out on the wild flowers when they’re blooming, the snow-capped mountains in winter, the waterfall, the deer, the beautiful people, like Tony, who walk there every day. You also miss out on knowing yourself better, on understanding what is important to you.

Sure, occasionally a certain sappy song or romantic movie would come on, and you’d wonder what he or she was up to, but there was no way to know. Of course, you could always pick up the phone (and more recently, text or e-mail), but that would require that person’s knowing you were thinking of him or her. Where’s the fun in that? You never want them to know you’re thinking of them, so you refrain. Before long the memories start to fade. One day, you realize you can’t quite remember how she smelled or the exact color of his eyes. Eventually, without ever knowing it, you just forget that person altogether. You replace old memories with new ones, and life goes on. It was the clean break you needed to move forward.

Supplication comes from a place of intrinsic desperation resulting from a broken and contrite heart.

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.

Take heart now in one true thing: You will gain traction. You will grow upwards even when you think you’ve been slammed back down into that same dark hole. It will start looking like a different hole, one that might still have you curled up and crying, but that crying will be more transformative than only desperate screams of despair. Your pain can be turned to good account. You’re not alone. You’ve got this handbook. Keep us with you.

Take it from me. Now is always the answer. Besides, do you have anything better to do? Mope around for a decade or two?" Casiopea drummed her fingers against her skirt and chewed her lip. The dramatic poetry she'd read would have called for this and more. There was sadness in her, of course, but she didn't wish to crack like fine china either. She could not wither away. In the world of the living, one must live. And had this not been her wish? To live. Truly live.