Bittersweet Quotes

Momentary happiness is worse than permanent misery.

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

But once in a while, you pick the right thing, the exact best thing. Every day, the moment you open your eyes and pull off your blankets, that's what you hope for. The sunshine on your face,warm enough to make you heart sing.

I will tell you in another life when we are both cats.

Life at best is bittersweet.

Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.

I do not think I responded immediately, for it took me a moment or two to fully digest these words of Miss Kenton. Moreover, as you might appreciate, their implications were such as to provoke a certain degree of sorrow within me. Indeed- why should I not admit it? - at that moment, my heart was breaking.

And you find some way to surviveAnd you find out you don't have to be happy at all..To be happy you're alive.

Saving you was worth losing what we might've had.

Victory is always bittersweet.

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.

Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown days, each far too little and yet too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer, with that bittersweet release lingering in the doorway, but never quite being sent all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place.” ― Connie Kerbs

You are the illness I will never cure. You are the poem I will never write. You are the thought I will never finish. You are the text I will never read.

Out on the lawn, Bunny had just knocked Henry's ball about seventy feet outside the court. There was a ragged burst of laughter; faint, but clear, it floated back across the evening air. That laughter haunts me still.

If there is an afterlife, I want my soul intact. And then maybe I'll see you there."I smiled, somehow calm now that I was facing something inevitable. I was getting the good-bye I'd always wanted. - Nikki

And the pomegranates,/like memories, are bittersweet/as we huddle together,/remembering just how good/life used to be

Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.

We are nothing but shadows Fading away Trying to hold on to This bittersweet life That we call our own...

Just give me a bit, let me pretend you're still alive," Andrei said hoarsely. "Let me pretend that I don't have to give you up.""Andrei," Warm, calloused hands cupped Anrei's face. "Look at me. I'm real. I'm still with you. A part of me will always be with you. Even after I go through that doorway.

leave me some musicthat’s chocolate for the heart.

We weren’t that different after all, our souls laden with the same ache of loss, our hearts bursting with the same longing to save what remained of all we loved.

The machines of this place are failing, and the woman and I are here all alone. The perpetual motion engine, as brilliant and beautiful as it is, is running down—nothing lasts forever. But before this little world falls out of the sky there still might be time enough for redemption. There is still time for me to say the words that I should have had the courage to say at the beginning.There is still time, perhaps, for one more miracle.Hello, Miranda.

There's that horrible-beautiful moment, that bitter-sweet impasse where you know that somebody is bullshitting you but they're doing it with such panache and conviction...no, it's because they say exactly what you want to hear, at that point in time.

I ain’t scared to lend a handI ain’t scared to clench it either

We were both smiling, in that bittersweet way one does when imagining something the heart longs for and the head would dread.

He can smell his cologne, his shampoo, and something else -- he can smell the boy's own scent, something bittersweet.

The sharp knife of a short life, wellI've had, just enough time.

...I live with regrets - the bittersweet loss of innocence - the red track of the moon upon the lake - the inability to return and do it again...

I can tell you this: there will be other girls, other disasters. And there will be nights to come, his life mostly behind him, when he will long to hurt like that again.

He was the friend of my life. You know, you only have one friend like that; there can't be two.

I’m sorry I broke you. It’s just that you’re so pretty, and I break pretty things.

Sentimental outbreaks are like liquorice; when first you suck it, it's not bad, but afterwards it leaves a very nasty taste in the mouth.

He grabbed my hand and that’s when I felt my heart beat for the very first time.

i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.

Beautiful surroundings, the society of learned men, the charm of noble women, the graces of art, could not make up for the loss of those light-hearted mornings of the desert, for that wind that made one a boy again. He had noticed that this peculiar quality in the air of new countries vanished after they were tamed by man and made to bear harvests. Parts of Texas and Kansas that he had first known as open range had since been made into rich farming districts, and the air had quite lost that lightness, that dry, aromatic odour. The moisture of plowed land, the heaviness of labour and growth and grain-bearing, utterly destroyed it; one could breathe that only on the bright edges of the world, on the great grass plains or the sage-brush desert.

I must indeed abide the Doom of Men whether I will or nill: the loss and the silence. But I say to you, King of the Numenoreans, not till now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Elves say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.

Well, then, what's the plan now? You can't stay here forever.'My plan was indeed to stay there forever.

She clasped his hands and pressed her lips to them. 'I want you to be proud of me,' he repeated. She dropped his hands, feeling defeated.

But one day, when Toby is old enough, I will take down a shoe box from a shelf where it is kept, and I will tell him again the story of his sister, Isabel Margaret Cavendish, the girl who came before.

Halfway down the aisle, Jamie suddenly seemed to tire, and they stopped while she caught her breath...It was, I remembered thinking, the most difficult walk anyone ever had to make. In every way, a walk to remember.

Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.

Time makes fools of us all. Our only comfort is that greater shall come after us.

I would stay away from him and leave him to go his own road where there would be other women, countless other women, who would probably give him as much physical pleasure as he had had with me. I wouldn’t care, or at least I told myself that I wouldn’t care, because none of them would ever own him—own any larger piece of him than I now did.

Was it always to be like this? she wondered. A moment of joy followed by a new sorrow?

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollarThey're worth so much more after I'm a gonerAnd maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'Funny when you're dead how people start listenin

I knew beauty for me would only ever be derived from loss.

It was hard to understand a little and then walk away.

Had I only known my lettersWould be of such importanceI’d empty myself on paperEvery single morning’And it was for such reason,as she read his little stanza,that she decided to stamponefinalletter:‘Every single morningI’d empty myself on paperYou were my greater importanceThat’s why I wrote you letters.

Eventually I’ll stop writing about you and it’ll be bittersweet. Not because I’m not in love with you, but because I’ll just love you.

The two of us are lIke sunshine and the rain. Together... We are the wellspring of all life. But between us, there will will bloom no flowers. We shall bear no fruit. For us, all of time... Shall be evergreen."And that's fine. I will be here always. To you... I give eternity."Hotaka

You expect certain things to always be there, like the bakery on the corner, or the boy you grew up with. But when the very ground can eat you alive without warning, what's to say the ocean won't dry up? Or the stars won't suddenly shut off? Nothing is forever.

And as Sean climbs into bed and closes his eyes, Mother comes, riding astride a lion the size of a house, blowing a clarion from a horn made out of a hollowed-out elephant's tusk. Her eyes have a faint crimson glow from the lasers that are mounted behind her irises, ready to fire at will.'I touched a prince's chest today and made his heart stop,' she says. 'I'll do it again if I have to: they'll see what happens if anyone gets in my way. Good night, my son. Remember that I will always keep you safe; that I am always everywhere and always here.''Good night, Mom,' Sean says, and falls asleep.And Mother recedes, wise and beautiful and strong, a genius and a hero, a punisher of thieves and a slayer of wicked men, to watch over her son in all her different versions.

We were in ways I can’t seem to grasp. We moved like fluid, scattering our love throughout each other. We moved along, out of our eyes and through our veins. It was unintentionally and in turn, unconditionally.

I found it not inappropriate that the years of frustration and grief and loss, of work and conflict and painful resurrection, should have led me through their dark and devious ways to this new beginning.

In my humble opinion, forever is a bitter brew." - Max; Before Ever After ♥

Would 'sorry' have made any difference? Does it ever? It's just a word. One word against a thousand actions.

I don’t believe he deserves the thousands of poems I’ve written about him, but life doesn’t follow rules. We do things for people who don’t necessarily deserve it. But we liked it, we loved it and fell in love enough to write about it.

...the sweetness of grace and freedom comes hand in hand with the uncomfortable, bitter-rawness of honest emotions and grief.

I stood in my garden as the rain poured down, eyes closed, and when I opened them I thought to myself how I'd never seen anything more beautiful. Green flashed before my eyes; trees, leaves and grass, glittering with raindrops, the tears of angels weeping with sadness and joy; green, the colour of love, to remind me why I'm here.

You cannot drink the nectar of love without bleeding for its thorns.