Sad Quotes - Page 25

Maybe I should stop while I'm aheadNay, I swim with sea-demons no sweet summer tuned radioover my sunless desertscapehow does it burn without the sun?

Her tragedy, if she had one, was to be as normal and average as any child ever born.

Being Wise & Being Smart are two different things anyone can be smart but those who master the art of knowing what to overlook in this journey called life deserves to be called Wise

What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're OK?I'm falling to pieces

What seems like the right thing to do could also be the hardest thing you have ever done in your life

Who would have listened to his tales of woe when his love was the flickering lamp over his own decaying tomb?

I wasn’t dying alone. My beloved was dying with me.

If I can draw the slightest smile across a single face obliterated by pain, in that act I will have begun to understand the power of an ordinary human being to perform the seemingly impossible in the life of another human being. And how can that experience do anything less than drive me to try and make the world smile.

The most important principle for self discovery and to taste success is rather than changing other's attitude changes your own. And always remember same sun which melts the butter also hardens the clay

How easily such a thing can become a mania, how the most normal and sensible of women once this passion to be thin is upon them, can lose completely their sense of balance and proportion and spend years dealing with this madness.

Love does these three things effectively: multiplies joy, divides trouble, subtracts grief, and adds peace.

Her eyes are sad.My thoughts are sadder.And you can't fall in love with me.She slowly walks inside, avoiding my gaze as she watches her feet with each step.They're the saddest steps I've ever seentaken.I close the door.It's the saddest door I've ever had to close.

Some people you’re not meant to get over.

Have you ever had a beautiful melody stuck in your head, but you don't know where it came from? That melody is me.

Love is like fire.Leave it alone and you will be okay,play with it and you get burnt

Happiness found me alone one day and took me by the hand.He showed me how the sun gave out its warmth across the land.Sadness found me content and smiling upward at the sun.He talked of droughts and blindness and what burning rays had done.Happiness found me alone again and pointed to the sky.He showed me how the storms created rainbows way up high.Sadness found me intrigued and took me to the rainbow’s end.He showed me how it disappeared to ne’er return again.Happiness found me alone and taught me how to sing a song.He sang a dozen melodies as I chirped right along.Sadness found me singing out and covered up his ears.He said the noise was deafening, and wished he couldn’t hear.Happiness found me alone and gave me seven coins of gold.He showed me many fancy things that merchants often sold.Sadness found me admiring the pretty things I’d bought.He pointed out my empty purse and money I had not.Happiness found me alone and helped me talk to someone new.He called the boy my friend and said that I was his friend too.Sadness found me together with my kind, attentive friend.He whispered of betrayal and how broken hearts don’t mend.Happiness found me alone and held me tight in his embrace.He whispered kindness in my ear and kissed me on the face.Sadness found me with Happiness but before he spoke at all,I told him he’d have better luck at talking to the wall.

No day shall erase you from the memory of time

In the end it will be your “Actions” “Convictions” & “Thoughts” which will determine how you shaped your life.

Cassandra wondered at the mind's cruel ability to toss up flecks of the past. Why, as she neared her life's end, her grandmother's head should ring with the voices of people long since gone. Was it always this way? Did those with passage booked on death's silent ship always scan the dock for faces of the long-departed?

I keep breaking things, as if to see what's going on inside of me.

Clem rubbed at her face with her cuff and gave a quick, rueful smile. 'It's just so sad. It's the umpteenth time I've read it, and I will always think it will have a different ending. But it never does.

Love that brings you sorrow is better than hate that brings you joy.

We were his disposable things. Brought to him like cattle. Stripped of what made us sisters or daughters or children. There was nothing that he could take from us—our genes, our bones, our wombs—that would ever satisfy him. There was no other way that we would be free.

Oh, I’m Chrissy Mackenzie, I’m from Vancouver but I came here to study environmental journalism,” the girl exclaimed with way too much enthusiasm. “You got any advice?”“Search me,” Mandy muttered, spooning another ice cube from the empty glass on the table in front of her. “I like pollution, I write in favor of it, and environmental journalism most often implies that it’s in favor of all that “go green” hippie crap.” “Oh, well….” Chrissy seemed taken aback, offended, and Mandy sighed a fourth time. “Damn it, I’m really sorry,” she apologized, smiling dismally at the aspiring writer. “It’s just been a really lousy day for me and I wasn’t really thinking. My advice? Find your own cause to represent, not one thrown out into society by a ton of environmentalist dopes. Find something new, something you think could be improved, and work from there.” Chrissy smiled with a look of total ecstasy as if the words of some nobody woman were important. Mandy momentarily noticed the groups of laughing, drunk, giggling people, all acting childish… and for a moment she wished she could be them.

Love makes you strong when others are weak, brave when others are scared, hopeful when others are despairing and cheerful when others are sad.

Something inside of me began to tear.

I'm not going to lie to you and say it gets easier, because it doesn't. It's just that you get used to it. The human animal has an amazing capacity to get used to almost anything.

Like so many others my story begins with that same old line…. ‘So anyway, there was this guy….’ Until one day…. there wasn’t.And nothing was ever the same after that….

I miss that feeling of connection.Knowing he was out there somewhere thinking about me at the same time I was thinking about him.

You don’t need a sad soul to feel the beauty of a dead graveJust stay with the pale moonwhen darkness wants the night to be brave

The world pushes us with no mercy and when some push back the world points and cries EVIL

apart from being suicidal I'm fine

Jan had always been a good pianist, and now he was the finest in the world.

He hated this feeling of free-floating, just drifting from place to place, thought to thought, without any sense of anchor or root.

Everything in this world exists to wear you down.

I was extremely worried. What would happen to me now that they knew that I had lost my mind? Would they put me in a padded cell and feed me through a hatch door? Would I end up in one of those places that you hear about, where people go in but never come out?

And I realize, so suddenly that it hurts, just how empty a creature can be, while still filled to the brim with drowning agony.

Cut my life into pizzas. this is my plastic fork. oven baking, no breathing, dont give a fuck if its carbs that i'm eating' -Catherine Spann

Our education system is today run by left-wing elitists who believe the US is too big, too arrogant, and must be reigned-in... Real sad.

There is no reason for him to be in a strange land, the grim reaper holding him close, saying, "Yes, today is the day," or "No, not yet.

Don't worry, all is well. All is so perfectly, damnably well.

His love was a poison: soft and loveable, hideous yet touchable.

Stephanie could see the greed seep into the watery eyes of herfather’s other brother, a horrible little man called Fergus, as henodded sadly and spoke sombrely and pocketed the silverwarewhen he thought no one was looking

I no longer pursue happiness, for it alludes me in every occasion. It is as if I'm trying to find something that is invisible, and sometimes I can't help to wonder if I'm the only one who it is oblivious to

How my heart and soul are feeling Today?In pieces

Life hands us storms so we can paint rainbows.

If we just had some time to ourselves, we could talk to each other the way we used to. Maybe about nothing in particular at first, but even that would be a start.

Sadness brings delicacy. Happiness brings subliminal terror.

It's much easier not to know things sometimes.

This was a different kind of a kiss, not one that leads to something, but a hard, painful one.It was a goodbye kiss.

Every story has an own end one story ends with not so happy end like in the middle to happen events like suicide, like die from real nature which will mean you just die without any disease or something like this it has came the time you to die. So you die!Other die from diseases like cancer or something other thing. But the story must end and must begin, nobody can do anything about that. Some stories end and start with happiness, but as always there is some sad events!

The difference is,Now I cant call you anymore…I cant hear your calming voice,I cant hear your wordsThat made me always feel better,Now I am just all aloneIn this dark and cold room

Now I understand why women want to have children - it's simply the urge to create happiness for yourself, somehow to fill the oppressive, unbearable emptiness in your soul.

Black funeral dress. Black heels. Black headband in my hair. Death has a style all it's own. I'm glad I don't have to wear it very often.

My brain refused to move past the pain, as if it had been filled to the max and needed to be emptied.

Sometimes your eyes are not the only place the tears fall from.

I collect my thoughts, I choose my words, Whenever I decide to talk to you.But...I feel like a dumb, without a tongue,Whenever I reach in front of you.I wonder why it happens to me?even when my feelings are genuine and true.

After a year in therapy, my psychiatrist said to me, 'Maybe life isn't or everyone.

I PAINT MY FACE.By Omrane Khuder.Mirror, distorted; I sit, paint my Face,Toxic white Make-up buries my Scars,My Eyes tell lies; Dumbfounded Confidence hides the Disgrace.Place the tragic Vehicle called My Life in to Drive,Sad pathetic Clown; Late for the suppression show,Despair another time; Let the chuckles and defeat derive.I paint my Heart; I hide my True.I paint my Soul; I keep it from You.I paint, I cannot accept; To ignore you the way you ignore Me?I paint my scarred and pitiful Face; No Will left to restore Me.I paint my Face; it’s all I know to do.My painted Face shatters the Mirror, yet still all I see is You.

You could drown a kitten in her blue eyes.