Best 980 quotes in «leaving quotes» category

I will never lose the love for the arriving, but I'm born to leave.

I will miss my chest exploding you coming home late not turning on the light always waking me up I will miss the sudden burst of safety when you look at me or hold my hand or say something like ”let’s go home” I will miss the years I lost on something or someone. The pieces didn’t fit, shaped wrong the timing slightly off. I loved you like I always will.

Living between cities, we are abandoned by them as much as they are by us, because if they gave us all we needed, we wouldn't have to leave.

Ljubav odlazi tiho. Nikad necete cuti njen kraj.

Look," Connor said. "I don't know what's gonna happen in the morning. We'll deal with that then. But if I've only got a little bit of time left with you, I want to remember the way you look in my bed.

Make a difference in someone's life by leaving them alone when they need solitude.

Można odejść na zawsze, by stale być blisko.

Maybe you leave because you long to know. Maybe you leave not because of longing but because you must. Or maybe you leave simply to find the answers you’ve held inside of you all along.

Maybe our bodies are just hearts with legs and that’s why we’re so quick to run.

Most days, I’ve got this impermanence thing down just great. It doesn’t bother me; what’s to bother? Most days, I sit comfortably with the knowledge that I’ll die alone, and I feel nothing so strongly as my embrace of my nothingness. Most days don’t really matter, because there is only this day, and right now I feel like fear is all I am. I don’t want you to leave. Just let me pretend you won’t.' He wrapped his arms around me and we slept. For that night, we would last forever.

My dreams are not always with me. They can leave anytime, but I am the one who keeps on chasing them.

My hair was blowing in the wind and I thought it was because I was flowing, but instead I was going.

No" she jerked back, stared up at him. Her eyes were like thunderclouds. He'd never seen them like that. Shock and fear filled them. Her face was paper white. Her body shuddering. "Don't you leave me!" She gripped his shirt and tried to shake him, tears falling from her eyes. "Don't you leave Noah." His head lowered. He touched her lips with his and knew this woman held the best part of him. The memories of the husband he had been, the man he had been. He couldn't destroy that. He refuse to. He pushed her to Jordan slowly, loath to let her go. To release her. Knowing that releasing her was the only way to save the memories she held. "Don't you leave!" She screamed the order, eyes blazing, her lips trembling as tears fell and hysteria threatened to overwhelm her. "If you leave me, Noah Blake, if you don't come back when this is over, don't bother coming back at all. He touched her cheek. Ran his thumb over her lips. "You are the best part of me," he whispered. "Always remember that, Sabella. The best part of me." Before she could grab him, hold him to her, he pulled away, grabbed one of the rifles Mike had set on the table across the room. And left.

No. No!” he says. “I . . .” He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don’t know. “You can’t go. Ana, I love you!” “I love you, too, Christian, it’s just—” “No . . . no!” he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. “Christian . . .” “No,” he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn’t move. What? “Christian, what are you doing?” He continues to stare down, not looking at me. “Christian! What are you doing?” My voice is high-pitched. He doesn’t move. “Christian, look at me!” I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze—he’s almost serene . . . expectant. Holy Fuck . . . Christian. The submissive.

No" she jerked back, stared up at him. Her eyes were like thunderclouds. He'd never seen them like that. Shock and fear filled them. Her face was paper white. Her body shuddering. "Don't you leave me!" She gripped his shirt and tried to shake him, tears falling from her eyes. "Don't you leave Noah." His head lowered. He touched her lips with his and knew this woman held the best part of him. The memories of the husband he had been, the man he had been. He couldn't destroy that. He refuse to. He pushed her to Jordan slowly, loath to let her go. To release her. Knowing that releasing her was the only way to save the memories she held. "Don't you leave me!" She screamed the order, eyes blazing, her lips trembling as tears fell and hysteria threatened to overwhelm her. "If you leave me, Noah Blake, if you don't come back when this is over, don't bother coming back at all. He touched her cheek. Ran his thumb over her lips. "You are the best part of me," he whispered. "Always remember that, Sabella. The very best part of me." Before she could grab him, hold him to her, he pulled away, grabbed one of the rifles Mike had set on the table across the room. And left.” ― Lora Leigh, Wild Card

Naviknite se da ljudi odlaze, cak i kad obecaju da nece.

New orders: Make sure everybody who doesn't want to live here is aboard in five minutes. We are leaving. -Captain Kevyn Andreyasn

night opens I enter night shuts I don't leave

Occasionally we must disconnect to reconnect later on.

Of course. That's what people do in a disordered world, a world of freedom and choice: they leave when they want. They disappear, they come back, they leave again. And you are left to pick up the pieces on your own.

Once the tugboat takes you out to the ocean liner, you got to get all the way on board. Can't straddle both decks.

One final glance back at the hotel. Philias Switchmoat the Third, stepping from the curb and in to a puddle. Disappeared.

She allowed history to leave her without trying to hold it back, the way children allow a grand parade to pass, holding it in their memory, making it an unforgettable thing, making it their own

Rules are made to be broken, but hearts are broken to be made. It is a big miracle to be loved "because" of your inadequacies, not "despite" them. And nothing can be as fascinating as walking tall on the same road that once witnessed your fall.

Scents were like rain, or birds. They left and came back.

Shall the day of parting be the day of gathering? And shall it be said that my eve was in truth my dawn?

She doesn't need to see him go to know he is gone.

One reaches his goal by deciding to go away.

People aren't things., we cannot lose them nor someone can take them away from us. They choose to leave.

People come and go all the time, it’s ripping me to pieces and I was in a state of simply not caring about anything or anyone other than the very thought of not giving a damn anymore. People always leave, I thought, and I did not want to be excited.

people go but how they left always stays

Release- For years they told you to sit. Stay. Now they open the door and tell you to get up. Leave. Where do you go with no one to show you the way?

​ Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall carve of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.

She had never met Caroline's mother, but she knew a thing or two about what happened when someone went far away, how after a time you couldn't see their faces anymore when you closed your eyes or hear exactly how they laughed at a joke, how they seemed less like a real person whom you loved and more like a character in a story. And once that happened, it was easy, too easy, to let them float away like milkweed.

She left me the way people leave a hotel room. A hotel room is a place to be when you are doing something else. Of itself it is of no consequence to one's major scheme. A hotel room is convenient. But its convenience is limited to the time you need it while you are in that particular town on that particular business; you hope it is comfortable, but prefer, rather, that it be anonymous. It is not, after all, where you live. When you no longer need it, you pay a little something for its use; say 'thank you sir,' and when your business in that town is over, you go away from that room. Does anybody regret leaving a hotel room? Does anybody who has a home, a real home somewhere , want to stay there? Does anybody look back with affection of even disgust, at a hotel room when they leave it? You can only love or despise whatever living was done in that room. But the room itself? But you take a souvenir. Not, oh, not to remember the room. To remember, rather, the time and place of your business, your adventure. What can anyone feel for a hotel room? One doesn't any more feel for a hotel room than one expects a hotel room to feel for its occupant.

She’s leaving me!” “Leaving? She’s been waiting for you to get your shit together.” I step into him. “That Hunter bastard is offering her the world! What do I got to give? Nothing. I’ve got nothing.” Isaiah slams his finger into my biceps. “She looks at you like you’re the whole universe! I’d kill to have a sliver with Beth of what you have with Echo. Wake the f*ck up!” I pound my hand to my chest, mimicking the pain slicing it. “Echo’s leaving me.” “No, man. You’re the one leaving her,” he seethes. “Get it together or she will walk.

She wanted to make him swear; to have a kind of ceremony-- but then she saw his face as he looked out over the Island and saw that he loved it as she did, and she knew for certain they would both be back.

Someone who lives always with a plane schedule in the drawer lives on a slightly different calendar.

So many days had passed since he had left her but the disorder that she had brought into his world had not left him. He thought of her many times during the day. Not being able to see her made him feverish. At nights he slept with emptiness filling his embrace. Life without her was unbearable and he longed to return to her.

Sometimes kindness is just leaving people alone.

sometimes leaving feels a lot like being left behind.

Sometimes leaving is the only way to be there for someone.

Sometimes correct decisions are not good decisions

sometimes I wish I would just disappear into thin air, leave the pain and the misery of this cold hearted world,I wonder who would miss me if anyone would even show a little sympathy to my family, probably no one I was just a little no one anyways.

Sometimes leaving is the only way to appreciate what we have.

The only person you should ever fear losing in a relationship is you yourself.

So now it’s this thing I do. I go away, ever so often, by myself, for myself, to new places with foreign streets I haven’t walked yet, and there I wander, up and down, watching people going places I don’t know and it always hits me that they’re never alone, always with someone, and I wonder how they would spend a day all on their own in a foreign city with nothing to do and no one to see, and I wonder if they’d be happy. Just simply being free, like I am trying to be. Happy. Just simply being me.

Such is life, imaginary or otherwise: a continuous parting of ways, a constant flux of approximation and distanciation, lines of fate intersecting at a point which is no-time, a theoretical crossroads fictitiously 'present,' an unstable ice floe forever drifting between was and will be.

The act of you leaving was just the full stop at the end of a terrible sentence. Fact is, I lost you long before you ever left.

the goal is to keep yourself moving, remember? don't linger. don't hover. you are not going to stay.