Best 35 quotes in «saddness quotes» category

Because what was the point in crying when there was no one there to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn't even comfort yourself?

A smile will go the mile, while a frown will take you down.

But God gave us tears because he knew that sometimes we would need to let out some of our sadness.

A place that measures change in terms of centuries is the saddest place to live in as far us you are a live.

Bitterness leads to misery.

Denise Collins would be the first to tell you that there are no words. She never knew pain—not like this. Pain so endless, so agonizing but so serene that if she stood in one place long enough, her knees would buckle. And if she didn’t focus on something else quickly, she would faint. In silence, Denise stared down at her child. Half of his face was gone, around the cheekbone, a sunken pit where his left eye used to be, but she didn’t see that. She didn’t see the missing pieces, the severed right hand, the broken bones in his legs. All she saw was her son. Her prince. Her little man—dead. She leaned over gradually and pulled him up, supporting Jimmy’s body against the strength of her chest. There was no life in his arms as they hung over hers. He weighed next to nothing as she rested his head against her shoulder. It was their last embrace, their good-bye hug. A soundless sob escaped her lips. Denise wanted to call to him even though she knew he had gone where he could not call her back. She cradled him in her arms, oscillating to the rhythm of a song only she could hear. A mother and a son.

Dad will come back,' said Charlie quietly. When Mrs Bone turned to him, she didn't look sad at all, in fact she was smiling. 'You know, Charlie, I'm beginning to believe you,' she said. 'After what happened to Henry, I can believe almost anything.

But that's just it; I can either focus on what I have lost, or what I have gained, and I choose the latter.

everyone wants happiness no one wants pain but you can't have a rainbow without any rain

I barely know how to be with someone when I’m whole. How the hell am I supposed to be with you when I’m so fucking broken?

Hit the bottom and get back up; or hit the bottle and stay down.

I figured we really shouldn’t grieve for those who leave us for God. They’ve arrived at their destinations with lucky souls no longer burdened by our piddling human considerations. It may seem cruel when they die so young or so beautiful or so loved. Cry not for them, for the life not lived. Cry only for your own hurt in missing them. That’s the only true loss. And in those sad moments when you remember a touch, or catch them watching from the corner of your eye, understand they left you with a lesson. Everyone who touches your life teaches you something important you’re meant to learn. Somehow their visit here pushed your own soul along its path. Learning that lesson is the best way you can honor them.

I often wonder, if those that smile the most, are the most saddest people in the world.

He thinks of subtle, vast unbroken things I can only read about in books or see on screen.

It seems it has been my fate to sadden those I should have made happy.

Illusion" A man wants to be free flying in the emptiness of the universe He thinks he means something in the endlessness of nature A man wakes up being only a dust

It can be very seductive to tell our story to others who will listen because, lets face it, who doesn't love to 'commiserate' (in this context, meaning to share their misery) with other likeminded people. It justifies our attachment to the drama. The interesting thing about telling our story over and over is that it becomes even more deeply ingrained in our minds each time we tell it, and the universe delights in keeping whatever we claim as our story alive.

Sometimes it's hard to look at a flower, when your dying inside.

love is not a race 1st 2nd 3rd.... Love Is Only LoVE ,It come From Inside and Love Is Being In us!!!!

Never trust a promise

It is only when I am in communion with sorrow that I understand it.

Me being an ant, at her mountain, I would have tried my best for my voice to reach her peak. But our timing was off, and she hid her pain as stars in clouds. If I had the chance, I would have saved her from all the truths and lies.

Sorrow is an opportunity to appreciate happiness.

The guns reminded me that this was just an attempt to punch holes in the darkness that enveloped us now.

Take control of your emotions before your emotions take control of you.

The healing process can only truly begin when we are willing to remember.

The heart's smiles help wipe away the soul's tears.

The moment I stopped being angry,the moment the silence filled my ears like water, was the moment I wanted to die,too.

The paint is drying, and time is dying. The pain is crying, lying on my back, trying to get back the time, to brushstrokes too fast, wet went dry and love went dull; now I live in a portrait I never painted.

Silent as a flower, her face fell in dismay, aware that the ghost of lust ate and left, sensing that there was a different scent of perfume consuming the room, and that she had numbered and counted the he loves me, he loves me not of each petal, where the lifeless dust had settle.

We hide our demons so good, that the angels we show, bare the shame on their faces.

The Blue Bird from The Last Night of the Earth Poems there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you. there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he’s in there. there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? you want to screw up the works? you want to blow my book sales in Europe? there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody’s asleep. I say, I know that you’re there, so don’t be sad. then I put him back, but he’s still singing a little in there, I haven’t quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it’s nice enough to make a man weep, but I don’t weep, do you?

The worst kind of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see- the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it.

You can cross the shore without getting wet, but you can't get through life without tears.

There are two things that may happen to a person: the first is that you become so soft that no one and nothing can break you, and the second is that you become so hard that nothing and no one can break you. Either way you go, the path will be very painful. But herein is the great sadness of it all: that anyone must try to become something that cannot be broken (whether the soft or the hard). Why must we be born into a world where we must spend our lives struggling to become unbreakable?