Best 125 quotes in «ending quotes» category

He felt as if something had been completed and he would never see any of those people again.

He had a talismanic obsession with final pages. At school he would near a book's conclusion, whether it was pulp science fiction or The Return of the Native, with one hand firmly clamped over the ultimate paragraph, in case his eye lit on a single word which might rob the entire story of its point, spoil the answer to the riddle of why he was reading it. When he shared this with Genevieve, she admitted to him that she always started a book by reading its final page, that she still did, but she wasn't sure why.

He loved her. And she loved him. And in such bliss does devastation grow.

How often do you think we write our own ending before the story is even finished? How often do we give up on ourselves when our lives are just starting? Things get hard and we immediately back away and assume that means we’re going in the wrong direction, doing the wrong thing. If anything, when the waters get thick, that’s our sign to keep going.

I don't expect congratulations for successful beginning, what I want is the applaud at successful ending.

I don’t know if I can put it into words just yet, this feeling like something’s ending and I have to be close to it.

I don't know what happened. Disease? War? Social collapse? Or was it just us? The Dead replacing the Living? I guess it's not so important. Once you've arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which route you took.

I fear that there will be no neat ending to this, in the manner of the old Greek plays. Where the Gods descend, and all is explained, and tidied away.

If you want a happy ending, it just depends on where you close the book!

I hurried to the southern corridor, relieved when I was safe in the blackness there. Relieved and horrified. It was really over now. I'm so afraid, I whimpered. Before Mel could respond, a heavy hand dropped on my shoulder from the darkness. "Going somewhere?" I was so tightly wound that I shrieked in terror; I was so terrified that my shriek was only a breathless little squeal. "Sorry!" Jared's arm went round my shoulders, comforting. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." "What are you doing here?" I demanded, still breathless. "Following you. I've been following you all night." "Well, stop it now." There was a hesitation in the dark, and his arm didn't move. I shrugged out from under it, but he caught my wrist. His grip was firm; I wouldn't be able to shake free easily. "You're going to see Doc?" he asked, and there was no confusion in his question. It was obvious that he wasn't talking about a social visit. "Of course I am." I hissed the words so that he wouldn't hear the panic in my voice. "What else can I do after today?It's not going to get any better. And this isn't Jeb's decision to make." "I know. I'm on your side." It made me angry that these words still had the power to hurt me, to bring tears stinging into my eyes. I tried to hold onto the thought of Ian - he was the anchor, as Kyle somehow had been for Sunny - but it was hard with Jared's hand touching me, with the smell of him in my nose. Like trying to make out the song of one violin when the entire percussion section was bashing away... "Then let me go, Jared. Go away. I want to be alone." The words came out fierce and fast and hard. It was easy to hear that they weren't lies. "I should come with you." "You'll have Melanie back soon enough," I snapped. "I'm only asking for a few minutes, Jared. Give me that much." Another pause; his hand didn't loosen. "Wanda, I would come to be with you." The tears spilled over. I was grateful for the darkness. "It wouldn't feel that way," I whispered. "So there's no point.

I know in the past I’ve found it hard to say- Telling you things but not telling straight- But the more I pull on your hand and say- The more you pull alway.

I'm a nice guy, I swear to fucking God.

I'm still looking for someone Who said they were here for me, And I thought I was once there for you. But when troubles are nearer than friends, And the road comes to an end, What could I do? I wish I could fly away like you.

In the meantime, the porter's gone. How much time until we reach our next stop?' I glanced at my wristwatch, an absurd fluttery feeling in my stomach. 'Nearly an hour.' 'Excellent,' he said, lowering his mouth again to mine. 'Let's make the most of it.' And so we did.

In this universe nobody and nothing can know in which part of the road they are! At the beginning? At the middle? At the end? Because end can happen at any time, the beginning of the road can be the end of the road as well. Or maybe the middle is the end! Besides, since everything is possible in this universe, end of the road may also disappear; end may turn into the endless!

Please make a list of every possession you consider essential to your life. I take a deep breath and pick up my pen.

His voice was deep, like a storm coming, but gentle, like the rain ending.

...and the hermit's spirit detaches itself, ever so gently, and begins its lonely passage upward, to find its final resting place among the stars.

I believe in (the American) people. I believe that people are more good than bad. I believe tragic things happen. I think there's evil in the world. But I think that at the end of the day, if we work hard, and if we're true to those things in us that feel true and feel right, that, the world gets a little better each time. That's what this presidency is trying to be about. And I see that in the young people i work with. This is not just drama-obama. This is what I really believe.

If a road ends, that creates a great opportunity to develop new abilities to continue! Welcome every challenge in your life!

I flip through the book, one of his top three, without question, to the last horrifying chapter: ‘A Stronger Loving World'. To the only panel he's circled. Oscar-who never defaced a book in his life-circled one panel three times in the same emphatic pen he used to write his last letters home. The panel where Adrian Veidt and Dr. Manhattan are having their last convo. After the mutant brain has destroyed New York City; after Dr. Manhattan has murdered Rorschach; after Veidt's plan has succeeded in ‘saving the world'. Veidt says: ‘I did the right thing, didn't I? It all worked out in the end'. And Manhattan, before fading from our Universe, replies: ‘In the end? Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends'.

I have a story to tell you. It has many beginnings, and perhaps one ending. Perhaps not. Beginnings and endings are contingent things anyway; inventions, devices. Where does any story really begin? There is always context, always an encompassingly greater epic, always something before the described events, unless we are to start every story with “BANG! Expand! Sssss…,” then itemize the whole subsequent history of the universe before settling down, at last, to the particular tale in question. Similarly, no ending is final, unless it is the end of all things…

I hope when this is done I'll be able to get back into my happy gardening vibe that was so healthy for me. I want to go back to my routine and my morning ritual with the compost, but it will probably be that my life will split in two. New Leaf Gardening in Wood Green will be happening in parallel to a fantasy that runs along the bottom of that screen like a ticker. Alice will be fine. Rabbit will stay up tonight, and every night. Resending and resending, reopening the page to see if she has responded, if anyone has. The spinning wheel will make my eyes hurt and everything else will go dark.

I lean forward into this looking-glass version of our very first meeting. My steady gaze meets his. "So, I have a job offer for you," I say to him. "Would you like to hear more?

I'm the demonslayer. Come and get me.

In the midst of life’s ups and down, beginnings and endings, let us live our life, let us be joyful, let us be happy.

I once read a story by this guy named Harlan Ellison ending: That night it rained, everywhere in the known universe. I was never too sure what the ending meant in terms of Ellison's story, but anyone who sits alone in a motel room for hours, watching the rain wash the world away, begins to understand. Knows what it feels like.

It ends when you’re ready for a new beginning.

It is 23.32 p.m. I still believe in symmetry, so this will be the last part. You've reached an end if you come back to where you started. I also remain superstitious about certain numbers. I use 23 and 32 for my lottery tickets, for example. It extends to dates. I still see signs.

It is as if I had made you believe In me once again It is as if you knew I was your true love It was as if I didn't have to know In this life All you were to me Was that flower

It was like a comedy by Shakespeare. All the ends of the story were being bound up in a good way.

It's a good story,' he said. He even grinned at me. 'I'll tell you.' 'Please,' I said. And then he did.

It's not that I'm angry; You've done nothing wrong. I'm just not sure why I'm staying When you're already gone.

I've decided I don't like books that end with 'The End'. The fact that there are no more pages, suggests to me that the book has ended.

I wasn’t alive until it was over and that’s when I realized sometimes love isn’t forever. It’s forever instilled in a moment for us to become alive.

Look Moy, see the chimneys, they've lit all the fires, they must have known we were going to try to drown ourselves. And Anax is running on ahead to bring the news.

I will take what I can from Edward. And then I will let them fade into history, all the characters in this drama. Emma Matthews and the men who loved her, who became obsessed with her. They're not important to us now.

I was silent while a whole world of possibilities gradually folded themselves up, like some trick of stagecraft, quietly collapsing, folding, merging, becoming very small and vanishing. So that—was that—at any rate. And I would have to think, to invent, in a new way, to exist in this situation which was now, I realized, whatever was the case with Hartley, the continuing and only situation for me, the final state of affairs, the world centre. 'I'm sorry,' I said. She shook her head slightly, jerked it with emotion, at this last awkward tribute. A short litany, a vast brief Amen.

Love, an endless cacophony Of hopes and dreams, Soon to suffer the ravages Of infinite time, turning To dust, heavenly stardust, Crumbling, engulfing, drowned In the black hole of all there is.

Nobody can go back and start all over again. But anyone can start today and make a new beginning. Instead of another closure, make a new future.

Nothing truly dies. All energy simply transforms.

Obsession and possession are just sessions destined to end soon.

She said that everything that disappeared from our side went over to theirs, where they kept living normal lives, waiting for the things still lingering with us to join them, and make the world whole once more.

So ended . . . a royal friendship which once could not be contained within the common bounds of love.

Sotto le nuvole bianche, cade la neve. Non si vedono né le nuvole, né la neve. Né il gelo, né lo splendore candido della terra. Un omino solo scivola sopra i suoi sci e va. La neve cade. Cade fino a che l’omino scompare tornando nella sua opacità. Il mio amico Serge, un amico di tanti e tanti anni, ha comprato un quadro. E’ una tela di circa un metro e sessanta per uno e venti. Raffigura un uomo che attraversa lo spazio e poi scompare.

stimulus: relevant cry (if then therefore) say: cry. say: knife o knife o knife

Of course, I did not realize it at the time, but it was to be nothing like a year before I came home again. I did not know when I would see Brisbane again, but I knew that I would. Someday. And indeed I did. That is when we found the body in the chapel. But that is a tale for another time.

Remember no matter how fast you run, you can't be the winner if you don't finish. As someone said, to be the first to finish, you must finish first! Go, take the strike!

Seventeen moons, seventeen years, Eyes where Dark or Light appears, Gold for yes and green for no, Seventeen the last to know.

She simply could not imagine lives ending so soon. Oh, you poor young men, she thought wildly.