Best 2271 quotes in «missing quotes» category

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    Reasons" I wish I knew why he left. What his reason were. Why he changed his mind. For all these years, I have turned it over in my head—all the possibilites—yet none of them make any sense. And then I think, perhaps it was beacause he never loved me. But that makes the least sense of all.

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    Remember, your wishes are on the ways God created. If you miss the way, you are automatically missing that great treasure! Be on the way of the Lord and your wishes will meet you at a chosen junction!

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    she awoke often to lie and wish for that presence beside her—inanimate yet breathing—still Jeff.

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    Ryan only had one name to help him get to his mother, and he had no idea of who it belonged to. Even worse, his dad had gone missing two days before, and he was clueless as to what had happened to him as well.

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    Saudade é um pouco como fome. Só passa quando se come a presença. Mas às vezes a saudade é tão profunda que a presença é pouco: quer-se absorver a outra pessoa toda. Essa vontade de um ser o outro para uma unificação inteira é um dos sentimentos mais urgentes que se tem na vida.

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    She could end up on the news if she wasn’t careful, with her face plastered on the back of milk jugs. Missing and too stupid to live.

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    She misses him more now than when he was away

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    Some people are so much heaven to the square inch that life is simply hell, when she leaves you in order to go south for the winter. (Yes, women are people too, sometimes even threee.)

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    She raised her sad blue eyes to mine. "It's going to be so boring here without you. And I'm going to have to deal with Grandmother on my own! You need to e-mail, text, call, send smoke signals--whatever--and tell me everything you're doing." I laughed. "Yes, I know. Every day. I promise.

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    Six months It been six months since you passed How long must these feelings of loss last ? It's been six months since you died, on the surface it appears I never really cried. I hide away my tears, my sorrow, my fears. They say time heals all wounds Wounds may heal, but scars remain. No one really sees the pain that hides behind my eyes. A heart of gold stopped beating two twinkling eyes closed to rest God broke our hearts that day to prove he only took the best Never a day goes by that you’re not in our hearts, our minds and in our souls. We miss you dad.

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    Some days I miss flying so much it makes my entire chest hurt, feels like I can't breathe sometimes. I try not to think about the fact that I'll never have thousands of feet of air between me and the ground again. But it's those times that I have to remind myself that at least I got the chance to do it sometime in my life. A couple dozen solo flights are better than having never done it at all.

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    Somehow I never finish what I start, I always end up ending it.

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    Some people masturbate to temporarily replace their partners when they are absent, whereas some people do that to temporarily live in the present.

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    Some people will miss you only when they realize you've stopped missing them.

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    She reminded me of a darkness, a darkness that I've missed.

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    She The voices of your whisper The images of your memory The Music of your Laugh The Portrait of your Smile Are dancing on my Mind The Love The Warmth of your Breath The Sensation of your Touch The Presence of your Absence Are my desire The Knowledge of your Mind The Irony of your Jokes The Desire to reach your Dream A Fighter Are my Qualification But that Girl is slip away Cease to exist Memories keep repeating Reminiscing Dying

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    So for now, I will miss you like I’ll never see you again, And the next time I see you, I will kiss you like I’ll never kiss you again, And when I fall asleep beside you I will fall asleep as if I’ll never wake up again, because I don’t know if I will. I don’t know if I will. - I Will Love You Like The World Is Ending

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    Some might claim that like the secret of flying is missing the ground, the secret to immortality is simply not dying.

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    sometimes i don't know, which moment which cool gust of wind will come, and enchant me tousling my hair and my heart, stirring...that familiar ache of poetry, which drop will kiss the old wrench in my soul reminding me, all over again i miss you better in the rain.

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    Sometimes it's your fragrance that comes to me, out of the blue, on a crowded road in a Sunday afternoon. But more often, it's memories of us that cross my mind almost every lone evening. All I want is to lessen the pain I feel every night. But every morning I wake up is another day, hopeless and miserable, with nothing but a deafening silence, a wave of tears, memories and your absence.

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    Sometimes, I miss you with an intensity not even your presence can fulfill

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    Tamani smiled softly and lifted a hand to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and letting his thumb rest on her cheek. 'Trust me, it's no picnic missing you. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

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    Take me back into the time when I lost track of time!

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    Sometimes we need to sit and think, how would our life be without that one person whose close to us. That is when we might understand their importance in life before we loose them forever.

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    Spread love every where every city town street It is an eternal feeling Not at all a topic of discreet

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    The beauty of the sea is that it never shows any weakness and never tires of the countless souls that unleash their broken voices into its secret depths.

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    Thank you! ....for sharing your childhood with me so I could experience the all joys that were missing in mine

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    The missing missing were people who dropped off the face of the earth and kept on going, with no one in their lives who noticed, or no one in their lives who cared. When they were found dead, with no means of identification, it was almost as though they’d been born that way.

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    The dead are immune from our prison of Time. The distance between the living and dead may be vast, but the space of Time the dead experience when they are reunited with their loved ones is only paper-thin.

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    The first few days, I kept checking my phone, waiting for him to reply, but slowly I understood that we were going to be part of each other's past. I still missed him, though. I missed my dad, too. And Harold. I missed everybody. To be alive is to be missing.

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    There is nothing I can do that won’t bring me back to you.

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    There are always things to miss," said Maggie. "No matter where you are.

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    There has never been a poet able to heal with words, nor accurately express with phrases, the pain of missing a lost loved one.

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    There is nothing missing.

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    There are some places you can't visit anymore, poetry and writings take you there.

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    There is a hole in the heart called "absence". You live in it my dear.

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    There is no such a thing as missing the train of your life! Life is very rich and very generous; it always offers you new opportunities! Already-missed will soon be substituted by the not-missed-yet!

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    there's a blessing ; even when you lose That ; There's always stay inside Your Heart, Memories That You'll never Been Forgotten Until the Rest Of Your Life ; mine?; There's inside My Heaven "Miquel Andre" .

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    They way I walk now you’d have a hard time recognising me, on these streets where I once imagined walking with you. Hand in hand, like we always did, and it never mattered where we were going because it was all just fine. I was always fine. But they rest restlessly in my pockets now, in a new town, on these new streets, and it’s heavy to stay standing for my body is half the size when you’re gone and these buildings are tall and old and beautiful and I wonder what secrets they hold. How to stand so proud after so many years because I’m still young but I feel worn and I get through the days on too much caffeine and mood altering chemicals to stay awake long enough to make the poetry come alive. I fall asleep on the floor with the music still playing when my neighbour leaves for the office and I’m jealous. I wonder what it’s like to go outside and know where to go, know where you want to end up and just simply go there. I’ve been making lists of things I want to do, where to go and who to be, now that you’re gone, and it’s nice and all, it’s just … I’d rather write it with you, and go there with you. Be things with you. There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back, but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain, eat when I can and sleep when I can, which is rare and not often, so if you’d see me now on these streets where I once imagined walking with you you’d have a hard time recognising me. It takes a lot to run away.

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    These days of internment are long. I do miss the falling blossoms, the manifold seasons of life, the thousand glances from the grand seductress – the world. But now all is uncertain.

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    These were the things we would never notice were missing.

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    The stars are brilliant at this time of night and I wander these streets like a ritual I don’t dare to break for darling, the times are quite glorious. I left him by the water’s edge, still waving long after the ship was gone and if someone would have screamed my name I wouldn’t have heard for I’ve said goodbye so many times in my short life that farewells are a muscular task and I’ve taught them well. There’s a place by the side of the railway near the lake where I grew up and I used to go there to burry things and start anew. I used to go there to say goodbye. I was young and did not know many people but I had hidden things inside that I never dared to show and in silence I tried to kill them, one way or the other, leaving sin on my body scrubbing tears off with salt and I built my rituals in farewells. Endings I still cling to. So I go to the ocean to say goodbye. He left that morning, the last words still echoing in my head and though he said he’d come back one day I know a broken promise from a right one for I have used them myself and there is no coming back. Minds like ours are can’t be tamed and the price for freedom is the price we pay. I turned away from the ocean as not to fall for its plea for it used to seduce and consume me and there was this one night a few years back and I was not yet accustomed to farewells and just like now I stood waving long after the ship was gone. But I was younger then and easily fooled and the ocean was deep and dark and blue and I took my shoes off to let the water freeze my bones. I waded until I could no longer walk and it was too cold to swim but still I kept on walking at the bottom of the sea for I could not tell the difference between the ocean and the lack of someone I loved and I had not yet learned how the task of moving on is as necessary as survival. Then days passed by and I spent them with my work and now I’m writing letters I will never dare to send. But there is this one day every year or so when the burden gets too heavy and I collect my belongings I no longer need and make my way to the ocean to burn and drown and start anew and it is quite wonderful, setting fire to my chains and flames on written words and I stand there, starring deep into the heat until they’re all gone. Nothing left to hold me back. You kissed me that morning as if you’d never done it before and never would again and now I write another letter that I will never dare to send, collecting memories of loss like chains wrapped around my veins, and if you see a fire from the shore tonight it’s my chains going up in flames. The time of moon i quite glorious. We could have been so glorious.

  • By Anonym

    The wind took me away from you, Draped with fear, waking nightmare, I lost all sense of who I could become, Your exuberant hold slipped away, Irresolute, impulsive, irreconcilable.

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    The world, with all its impossible variegation and the basic miracle of its existence, draws most mourners out of their grief and back into itself. The homosexual forsythia blooms; the young Irish dancers in Killarney dance, their arms as rigid as shovel handles; secret deals are done involving weapons or office space or crude oil or used cars or drugs; new lovers, believing they will never really have to get up, lie down together; the Large Hadron Collider smashes the Higgs boson into view; snow drapes its white stoles on the bare limbs of winter; the crack of the bat swung by a hefty Dominican pulls a crowd to its feet in Boston; bricks for the new hospital in Phnom Penh are laid in true courses; the single-engine Cessna lands safely in an Ohio alfalfa field during a storm. How can you resist? The true loss in only to the dying, and even the won't feel it when the dying's done.

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    This fever of longing is not love, he thought, it is the opposite of love. It is the separation from love that burns like the fires of hell.

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    When two broken hearts meet, they find their missing part in each other.

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    This negativity of my mind Is to blame For missing loving And being loved

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    Those who fixate on what could have been are bound to miss what already is.

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    Un seul être vous manque, et tout est dépeuplé. (Miss one person and the world seems empty.)

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    We play phone tag, back and forth, the kind of tag where it's clear we're avoiding each other, where no one wants to be touched, tagged, you're it