Best 80 quotes in «goodbyes quotes» category

a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand; but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon, when I don't know, if you will ever come back.

Also, I suppose I wanted to say goodbye to someone, and have someone say goodbye to me. The goodbyes we speak and the goodbyes we hear are the goodbyes that tell us we're still alive, after all.

Breathless, I gazed into his eyes. “I love you Ollie. No matter what happens, never forget that. I will always love you. You have a piece of my heart forever.” Beaming at me the tip of his nose touched mine as his forehead rested against my own. “I love you too Layla. You’ve had my heart since the moment you looked up at me from the hallway floor. You always will.

And I’m left staring out the window, watching District 12 disappear, with all my good-byes still hanging on my lips.

Another time, another place.

As long as you loved somebody, each kiss was hope and wonder, but it was also the potential for good-bye.

Come! Let us make that bargain. Think of me at my best, if circumstances should ever part us!

And she kept following the truck, like we were a very small parade, waving and waving, until Frank took the curve in the road and then she was gone.

Bards don’t believe in goodbyes—we know that the roads we walk are winding, and we generally tend to come back to people and places we’ve known and been before, and often at just the right time.” I smiled. “We’ll meet again.

Beso tus ojos y dejo mi corazón en tus manos

But..." I'm not ready for you to stop being my problem. "It makes more sense, Park. If you leave soon, you can still get home by dark.: "But if I leave soon..." His voice dropped. "I leave soon." "We have to say good-bye anyway." she said. "Does it matter if it's now or a few hours from now or tomorrow morning?" "Are you kidding?" he looked down at her, hoping he'd miss his turn. "Yes.

Death is easy, living difficult.

Flynn -I'm glad you ruined me." Her voice stabs my heart, because I recognize that tone. I've heard it before. "Don't start with the good-byes

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

For Sayonara, literally translated, 'Since it must be so,' of all the good-bys I have heard is the most beautiful. Unlike the Auf Wiedershens and Au revoirs, it does not try to cheat itself by any bravado 'Till we meet again,' any sedative to postpone the pain of separation. It does not evade the issue like the sturdy blinking Farewell. Farewell is a father's good-by. It is - 'Go out in the world and do well, my son.' It is encouragement and admonition. It is hope and faith. But it passes over the significance of the moment; of parting it says nothing. It hides its emotion. It says too little. While Good-by ('God be with you') and Adios say too much. They try to bridge the distance, almost to deny it. Good-by is a prayer, a ringing cry. 'You must not go - I cannot bear to have you go! But you shall not go alone, unwatched. God will be with you. God's hand will over you' and even - underneath, hidden, but it is there, incorrigible - 'I will be with you; I will watch you - always.' It is a mother's good-by. But Sayonara says neither too much nor too little. It is a simple acceptance of fact. All understanding of life lies in its limits. All emotion, smoldering, is banked up behind it. But it says nothing. It is really the unspoken good-by, the pressure of a hand, 'Sayonara.

Dear heart, Stop being strong and accept that you are never happy with goodbyes.

For the first time in my life, I felt the pain of missing people I had not yet left.

Goodbye," she said. When I didn't say it back, she rested her hand on the top of my head. The weight was strange and gentle. "I love you," she said. "And when I tell you goodbye, I don't mean forever or for long. Just that I'm going home now, and so are you.

Goodbye, sir, & fare well. You’re in the clear.

Goodbyes are not for everlasting bonds. For those who are connected from beyond, their separation will not last Long.

Good-bye." she said. "Good-bye, Park." "Good-bye, Eleanor. You know, until tonight. When you're going to call me.

I can’t pray or weigh my words right; doomsday is here my friend, but you’re immune. We suffer for you. I’m weaving crowns of sonnets, dreads; a souvenir so you’ll never forget your friends.

He still had his eyes on me, and it occurred to me that he was thinking the same thing as I was; that I was very underdressed to be here. I needed to leave, and quickly. But I didn't know how to say goodbye...

He came up and kissed me on my forehead, and before he stepped away, I closed my eyes and tried hard to memorize this moment. I wanted to remember him exactly as he was right then, how his arms looked brown against his white shirt, the way his hair was cut a little too short in the front. Even the bruise, there because of me. Then he was gone. Just for that moment, the thought that I might never see him again… it felt worse than death. I wanted to run after him. Tell him anything, everything. Just don’t go. Please just never go. Please just always be near me, so I can at least see you. Because it felt final. I always believed that we would find our way back to each other every time. That no matter what, we would be connected—by our history, by this house. But this time, this last time, it felt final. Like I would never see him again, or that when I did, it would be different, there would be a mountain between us. I knew it in my bones. That this time was it. I had finally made my choice, and so had he. He let me go. I was relieved, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was to feel so much grief. Bye bye, Birdie.

I’d been prepared for the goodbyes—as prepared as anyone could be, I guess—but I wasn’t at all prepared for a hello.

I couldn’t make myself move from the bed. To reach for you. I’d known this moment was coming, and now that it had arrived I found I had no strength in my limbs. Only my voice. Only words. Asking you to stay.

I don't know how you say good-bye to whom and what you love. I don't know a painless way to do it, don't know the words to capture a heart so full and a longing so intense.

I do plan on saying one or two things to him when we're allowed an hour for goodbyes. To let him know how essential he's been to me all these years. How better my life has been for knowing him.

I don’t say goodbye unless I think it’s final.

I drag the body out into the snowdrifts, as far away from our shack as I can muster. I put her in a thicket of trees, where the green seems to still have a voice in the branches, and try not to think about the beasts that’ll soon be gathering. There’s no way of burying her; the ground is a solid rock of ice beneath us. I kneel beside her and want desperately to weep. My throat tightens and my head aches. Everything hurts inside. But I have no way of releasing it. I’m locked up and hard as stone. “I’m sorry, Mamma,” I whisper to the shell in front of me. I take her hand. It could belong to a glass doll. There’s no life there anymore. So I gather rocks, one by one, and set them over her, trying my best to protect her from the birds, the beasts, keep her safe as much as I can now. I pile the dark stones gently on her stomach, her arms, and over her face, until she becomes one with the mountain. I stand and study my work, feeling like the rocks are on me instead, then I leave the body for the forest and ice.

I have never been good at saying goodbyes to people. What else can they offer rather than a reciprocal desolation?

I feel like a man standing at the mouth of an old mine-shaft that is full of cave-ins waiting to happen, standing there and saying goodbye to the daylight.

If I were married, I would be unmarried.

I just can't believe that life would give us to each other," he said, "and then take it back." "I can," she said. "Life's a bastard." He held her tighter, and pushed his face into her neck. "But it's up to us..." he said softly. "It's up to us not to lose this.

I'll be back," she said. "Very soon." He needed to reply. He needed to say Good, come back; better, Don't go; or better still, I'll join you. He wanted to say, Your neck is beautiful. He wanted to say, I never ever thought my life would hold this, and if your leaving is what I must give for what I was given, then it was worth it. But the children were all around and Mr Abasi was calling out and motioning for her to come, and anyway, he knew now, if he hadn't known before, that there were limitations to words - words in the air or on a page.

I'll tell you, that's one thing I hate about my nickname, the way the number runs on forever. It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let it go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said, but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse. That bungled goodbye hurts me to this day.

He wasn't much cut out for serious conversations. And a goodbye is a serious conversation.

În clipa aceea nu-i era rușine că-l iubea, pentru că dorința ei era moartă și simțea pentru el numai milă și o tandrețe profundă, aproape maternă. Se strădui să zâmbească. -Ca mame chinezoaică care își trimite fiul la război recomandându-i prudență (pentru că războiul nu este lipsit de pericole), vă rog, în amintirea mea, să vă menajați pe cât posibil viața. -Înseamnă mult pentru dumneata? întreabă el neliniștit. -Da. Înseamnă mult pentru mine.

I saw her disappear from my life like a star that fades into obscurity behind a veil of clouds.

Isia stepped forward. "Yes, sir. I know." Holding his fine brilliant wings above his body, he stood in front of us with his luminous lidless eyes full upon us. "I'm sorry to leave you. We've shared a lot together, and you have loved me even when I was ugly. But we'll see each other. Good-bye.

It always is harder to be left behind than to be the one to go...

I sit on a rock and watch children playing in the park below They don't see me Or know my thoughts Or that you haven't called But I forgive them their indifference today Above me a crow caws Perhaps he smells the crumbs on my dress Or my anger But he flits away over the trees Probably has a home Probably has a wife Probably knew to call The children leave The coffee in my can turns cold The wind nips at me Some street lights flicker on But I won't move Not yet I will wait for the night to chase me Back where I came from Up the empty street To a quiet house

It seemed so good when it started. I gave my trust to you. I came to you open-hearted, Hoping it was true. Now I've gotten smart. Now I've learned some things. Now I know that what once was a start, Is just an ending. The longest good-bye I ever knew, The longest good-bye Was the day I said hello to you.

It takes courage to say goodbye. To stare at a thing lost and know it is gone forever. Some tears are iron forged.

I was last. Sam walked up and held me for a long time. Finally, she whispered in my ear. She said a lot of wonderful things about how it was okay that I wasn't ready last night and how she would miss me and how she wanted me to take care of myself while she was gone. 'You're my best friend,' was all I could say in return. She smiled and kissed my cheek, and it was like for a moment, the bad part of last night disappeared. But it still felt like a goodbye rather than a 'see ya.' The thing was, I didn't cry. I didn't know what I felt. Finally, Sam climbed into her pickup, and Patrick started it up. And a great song was playing. And everyone smiled. Including me. But I wasn't there anymore.

I've heard you say so many a time That I know just the right words to say, just the right lines to rhyme... Today it's been 7 years since we last met I have learnt to say just the wrong words, just the lines you hate....

Maybe I am everything I knew that I would never be. I looked back at Jay and smiled.

Look up," the darkness whispered, "Do you wish to travel time? For there are centuries of stories Hidden inside each star's shine. Yet what you see is just a sentence In a tale with many more, For the light reaching us now Left the home countless years before. And someday in the future Long after your last goodbye, Perhaps somebody else Will turn their eyes upto the sky. And where now you just see darkness They will see a brand new light, The beginning of a story That has just left home tonight.

Not so bad this ending because one is getting used to endings: life like Morse, a series of dots and dashes, never forming a paragraph.

Memories don't die, they become shelved in recesses of one's mind, resurfacing when the triggers of life re-ignite them, lighting up the heart, in a warm glow of remembrance. - "Vindication Across Time