Heartache Quotes - Page 4

Keeping busy is the hardest part. When I find myself still, clear of thoughts, I can still feel you holding me.

Samuel finally understood the sound of the wind after all these years: The winds were a chorus of the prairie’s ever-present heartaches.

There are many types of pain. The only one that aspirin won't help is a hurting heart. That's why there is alcohol.

Please thaw my permafrost heart.

I find some small, twisted comfort in thinking that perhaps we used each other. Him, for a glimpse into what it would be like to live a life entirely different from the one he'd been raised to desire, and me for the steady diet of angst and emotional damage that seemed to make me better, sharper, like a sword against a whetstone.I was his intellectual escape from a long parade of pretty, empty girls... and he was my drug of choice -- unhealthy, probably lethal, but ultimately so addictive it was hard to turn away.The problem, of course, with this theory of mutual exploitation, is that it is the deepest of lies. There was nothing equal or mutual about the way we used each other. I barely scratched his surface while he sliced me limb from limb.There's no comfort in that. None at all.

If I seem to not want to be with him now, it’s only because love scares me too, more than manipulation, because love is a choice I make and not something forced upon me. I trust him, but I don’t trust myself. I must have time to trust myself so I can completely love him.He’s the grenade. I’m the grenade. We’ll blow each other to pieces… Together.

...what happens when you returnand find nothingbut a hollowed shell,shingles and floor,walls and echoesand the light that lead you herehas now burned outand the ones who built ithave traveled afarand you cant go to them,no matter what shoes you wear.

Heartache wasn't my intention... love was.

I find I'm unable to speak, unable to move, snared in his serious gaze like some kind of frightened rabbit

Somewhere, somehow, maybe I can find someone who can make my heart beat again.. For everyday that I pine for your love, and for every single time you reject me, I start to die deep inside.. That throbbing pain has slowly turned into numbing emptiness..

I didn't know what to say. It kind of hurt just to look at her, in a way i'd forgotten. Sort of like a splinter - not when you first get it under your skin, but the slow ache after it has been taken out.

You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since--on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to be displaced by your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere will be. Estella, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God Bless you, God forgive you!

Pain is inevitable, yet suffering is optional. It is our heart connections that make all the difference. When we experience mental, physical, emotional, or spiritual pain – love is the one medicine that transcends any synthetic or organic drug we use to suppress pain.

Honor LostAmbulant sunshine piercedthe soot covered glass ~the feeble man wandered byin this ritual morning pass ...

My heart is sair-I dare na tell,My heart is sair for Somebody.

The heart is a generous muscle.

Love entered in my heart one dayA sad, unwelcome guest.But when it begged that it might stayI let it stay and restIt broke my nights with sorrowingIt filled my heart with fearsAnd, when my soul was prone to sing,It filled my eyes with tears.But...now that it has gone its way,I miss the dear ole pain.And, sometimes, in the night I prayThat Love might come again.

Even if times are tough and you're enduring a terrible heartache, it's important to focus your anger on a vibrator, not another person.

Perhaps not everything happens for a reason. That is, until you make it so; because for everything there is a season, which can, in fact, become beautiful.

A love where no one gets hurt doesn't exist.

I was suffering the easily foreseeable consequences. Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted-an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is witheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore-- despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have 'that thing' even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is,you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess,unrecognizable even to your own eyes. So that's it. You have now reached infatuation's final destination-- the complete and merciless devaluation of self." - pg 20-21

I can have patience for anything, but it's waiting for love, that kills me a little each day.

He is no longer mine to lose, but the grief is there, a gnawing sense of disbelief.

Don't live life hiding behind your past. Live for the moment. When you find someone you want to spend forever with, you don't let them go, whether forever turns out to be a day, a year or fifty years

After a night of drinking, she would be a pale, starling-sized creature, but now, in this place, she is moonlight in heels.

Only I had dry eyes, a dry heart.

I could never hate you as much as I love you.

What's heartbreaking isn't that we can't be together. It's that now, I know better and now; I will never be able to love you or anyone else in the same way again.

My life is a room filled with love letters and goodbye notes.

There is no cancer, no sickness, no sin, no reversal of fortunes, no curse, no heartache - nothing - that's greater than Jesus. Jesus heals. Jesus restores. Jesus brings life.

Sunlight’s warmth on my face awoke me in the morning. I didn’t remember falling asleep or how I came to be in my own bed. But I did recall nightmares. Awful nightmares featuring Gwen.I turned my head to stare out an open window where the sun shone in full splendor, bleaching a clear sky enough to tell it was going to be a beautiful spring day. The air smelled of rain from overnight showers, mixed with a strong floral scent. A large lilac bush outside was responsible for the perfume. I breathed in the clean and fragrant air. My eyelids fluttered, blinking at a stunning reflection of daylight off the glass. The blue beyond gave an exquisite glow to my room. All of it was an invitation to bask in a new day—an invitation I declined because none of that mattered to me. The world might as well come to a dark and ugly end. I saw no reason for beauty or life to go on so long as Gwen was lost. Rolling over in bed, I felt the vice grips wrench at my heart again as I cried myself back to sleep.

It isn't a bit of use my pretending I'm not crying, because I am... Pause to mop up. Better now.Perhaps it would really be rather dull to be married and settled for life. Liar! It would be heaven.

It is strange... the reasons one feels he doesn't deserve things.

Sometimes I think of you and I feel giddy. Memory makes me lightheaded, drunk on champagne. All the things we did. And if anyone has said this was the price I would have agreed to pay it. That surprises me; that with the hurt and the mess comes a shift of recognition. It was worth it. Love is worth it.

She was also a memory, the worst kind of memory--the kind that pulled you to your knees at just the sound of her name.

She's your once in a lifetime girl.

That's what it felt like - that if I let a little of the hurt out, it would keep pouring out until I was a deflated balloon of a person, with a big monster of hurt in front of me.

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.

Could he be prosecuted for murder? Cause of death: broken heart. Murder weapon: words laced with bullshit.

And me, standing under the splintered night, catching fractured glimpses into the black behind the black, hearing the prayers of stars, the angry whispers of the dark summer night.Its voice cracks,on your name.My eyes close,on your name.

My tattoos, like most people's, were reminders, badges of personal experiences. Yes, I might wear them on my skin for the world to see, but their meaning was a little too personal.

Stars are always dancing. Sometimes they dance twinkling away with the rhythm of your joyful heart and sometimes they dance without movement to embrace your heartache as if frozen sculptures of open-armed sadness.

The worst feelings are the warm, anxious burning that portends your heart breaking followed by the wave of numbness that asphyxiates your soul.

As she looks through the window; while seeing him give her his world, tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembers the world she once had.

But I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.

I had heard the wind from the mountains calling me last night, telling me it was my time to go, and I woke up, knowing what to do.

You may have to break this heart before you can use it. You may have to take it apart and start all over with me. I know it hurts to change, but I don't want to stay the same. Take me. Break me. Do whatever it takes to make me what you need me to be

Time stops for no one, and if we allow ourselves to focus on the negative we might miss out on some really amazing things that life has to offer. We can't go back to the past, we can only take the lessons that we have learned and the experiences that we have gained from it and move on. It is because of the heartaches, as well as the hardships, that in the end help to make us a stronger person.

If you stand right at the edge of the night sky, some place where one o’clock leaves to meet two, the breeze will carry your words up to the stars. And they’ll swallow your secrets until its time to hand them over to the truths in the sky- the ones that draw maps in the black. They carve their answers into the backs of my hands, the grooves of the words running deep in my palms.

I don't know about homeless, but I'm never going to let you be hopeless. Or loveless. To be heartless however, well, that is your choice to make.

You are everything I have in this world Gracie

We ruined each other by being together. We destroyed each other’s dreams.

Lies and half-truths hurt not only the liar, but the people they love most.

As I spoke of another's love and looked into the wide, blue windows of her soul, a rich, insistent yearning flooded my senses.--"Tango

JAMIE'S SONG 'WHERE YOU ARE':I left my heart at your door,Don’t tread on it on your way out.It’s convulsing on the floor,Can’t you hear it scream and shout?I dropped my life by your feet,Don’t kick it as you walk down the street.I put my dreams in your hand,Don’t let them slip through your fingers like grains of sand.And my eyes will watch you from afar,Guide you like a shooting star.And you’ll see that I’ll always be where you are.Where you are.Yes, you know that I’ll always be where you are.Yes my eyes will watch you from afar,Guide you like a shooting star.And you’ll see that I’ll always be where you are.Where you are.

We declared war on one another's heart. And once the bombs dropped, & wars of words began, all that was left were the ruins of what was once everything. Something once so beautiful, that even those dull ruins held it's own tragic beauty all their own.

He bears wounds only seen with the heart and the scars that have formed over the years still pain him.

She's fire...but she will not burn you. She knows all too well how it feels to live with ashes.

I felt like an integral part of my being had just been ripped out of me, only to have it replaced with something that did not belong.

Thank you for the pain. At least I am no longer afraid to face it next time.