Sadness Quotes - Page 14

92. Eventually I confess to a friend some details about my weeping—its intensity, its frequency. She says (kindly) that she thinks we sometimes weep in front of a mirror not to inflame self-pity, but because we want to feel witnessed in our despair.

We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad. We made vague plans to meet in Frisco.

If you are going through hell, keep walking until you reach heaven.

I've always felt we're supposed to be sad as often as we’re happy. Without being forlorn, happiness has no value. I believe out there, whatever or whoever is responsible for the universe has simply made us start at the beginning before more is revealed to us. I don’t believe in a perfect existence. If it were around, we would know about it already. Erase pain and suffering and erase life. We’re being prepared for the next chapter. Being subjected to what’s considered the ultimate state of mind in the universe comes with a price-tag. What steps were at now I have no idea. But I'm excited to get to the end someday. Maybe I’ll come find you and we can swap stories sometime? Until then I value my sadness as much as my happiness. A sadness we all share.

Once a thing is removed from your heart, a trace of it still remains.

I'm not afraid to dieno today . . . maybe tomorrow.But I'll not dieno today . . . maybe tomorrow.Tomorrow I will go awayfrom this life that I've just borrowed!

Let us not burthen our remembrance withA heaviness that's gone.

I feel I've lost every part of me...there's nothing left but the parts I've given to you. I need you to hold those pieces together. Please don't forget who I was...then...then there really will be nothing left.

Even so, there were times I saw freshness and beauty. I could smell the air, and I really loved rock 'n' roll. Tears were warm, and girls were beautiful, like dreams. I liked movie theaters, the darkness and intimacy, and I liked the deep, sad summer nights.

One of the greatest acts of service you can do is to find someone who is secretly lonely and be a friend to them, if only for a day.

And it feels strange, almost sad, to walk through ther empty halls. Each step I take sounds so lonely.

That this girl would know exactly how to shatter me.

Sometimes when you are sad enough , your soul becomes ghost for you.

There is no greater sorrow than to recall in misery the time when we were happy.

He used to say that he never felt the hardness of the human struggle or the sadness of history as he felt it among those ruins. He used to say, too, that it made one feel an obligation to do one's best.

Why are doors more difficult to openas if some sadness were leaning against them?Why do windows darken and trees bendwhen there is no wind? You call that occasionalroar the roar of a plane and I imaginea time when I might have believed that. But now the darkness has been going onfor too long, and I have accustomed myselfto the pleasure of thinking that soonthere will be no reason to hold on in this placewhere rocks are like water and it’s so difficultto find something solid to hold on to.

These days, loneliness is the new cancer - a shameful, embarrassing thing, brought upon yourself in some obscure way. A fearful, incurable thing thing, so horrifying that you dare not mention it; other people don't want to hear the word spoken aloud for fear that they might too be afflicted, or that it might tempt fate into visiting a similar horror upon them.

He tried not to cry as he wondered if he would ever have a home again.

She had known happiness, exquisite happiness, intense happiness, and it silvered the rough waves a little more brightly, as daylight faded, and the blue went out of the sea and it rolled in waves of pure lemon which curved and swelled and broke upon the beach and the ecstasy burst in her eyes and waves of pure delight raced over the floor of her mind and she felt, It is enough! It is enough!

Zoe—" I said."Stars," she whispered. "I can see the stars again, my lady."A tear trickled down Artemis's cheek. "Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight.""Stars," Zoe repeated. Her eyes fixed on the night sky. And she did not move again.Thalia lowered her head. Annabeth gulped down a sob, and her father put his hands on her shoulders. I watched as Artemis cupped her hand above Zoe's mouth and spoke a few words in Ancient Greek. A silvery wisp of smoke exhaled from Zoe's lips and was caught in the hand of the goddess. Zoe's body shimmered and disappeared.Artemis stood, said a kind of blessing, breathed into her cupped hand and released the silver dust to the sky. It flew up, sparkling, and vanished.For a moment I didn't see anything different. Then Annabeth gasped. Looking up in the sky, I saw that the stars were brighter now. They made a pattern I had never noticed before—a gleaming constellation that looked a lot like a girl's figure—a girl with a bow, running across the sky."Let the world honor you, my Huntress," Artemis said. "Live forever in the stars.

You don't know where you are or where your dreams end and the world begins.

Without you discovering your true picture, it will be hard to have a glorious future. It is the discovery of what you have inside and the pursuit of it that can guarantee a glorious future

Ever two seconds, somewhere in the world, a child dies of starvation. That means every two seconds there is a story where the main character dies. That's a lot of horrible stories. So if my death looks like a sad story to someone else, I hope those people will use their imagination to think of all the children who don't get special deaths.

There would be no cloud-nine days without rock-bottom moments left below.

Careful... Once you push that button, there's no going back. This will end in two ways; the tragic loss of your sanity or the catastrophic diminution of my reality. You still want to know me? Bring a light, before my darkness swallows you whole

I feel so lonely every night and every day and I still push everyone away…

WHO AM I?I have seven heavenly panelsLeading up to a pointed sphereI’m multidimensional like a crystalAnd my center is never clear.I’m an inventor and pioneer.A mentor to my peers.But I'm not as sound as my shell reveals,Because I’m tormented by my fears -That may appear to be groundedBut my insides are filled with tears.And the sadness is well-founded,From years and yearsOf traumatic experiencesCompoundedIn the most dementedAtmospheres.I talk but feel like nobody hears.Has reason disappeared?And, God, are you near?This is Giza’s 7th light forceAnd I'm asking you to interfere.I can no longer walk amongst the blind and deadWith open eyes and ears.I’m trying to maintain my sanityAnd to straighten up my veneerAs I roll amongst the growing calamitiesFlowing on Earth’s severely trashedFrontier.Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (2010)

For love, we live For love, we dieFor love, we dream and get ready to be lied

Don't pluck a rose's petals and then ask the rose why it is sad.

What else has kept any of us going, but love of someone or the memory of that love?

Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;Weep, and you weep alone;For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,But has trouble enough of its own.

Worship is basically adoration, and we adore only what delights us. There is no such thing as sad adoration or unhappy praise.

If love and beauty were easy to find, they would not exist.Chaos and sadness exist in order for you to find the love and beauty in them. So that love and beauty mean something.It's meant to be hard.

On that search for happiness we did nothing with all those other emotions that made us human.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,Men were deceivers ever,-One foot in sea and one on shore,To one thing constant never.

I guess to their wide, innocent eyes it all seemed like normal family life because they had never known any different. In fact, I was the only one who had lived with anyone else, the only one that realized that life didn't have to be this terrifying and this painful all the time

My heart had melted into something akin to a sensation of happiness, peace of mind one might even say, at the realization that I had now reached the very bottom of agony.

I walk out the door with a heavy feeling in my heart as another secret falls on top of it.

Thomas had never seen anything like her in his life, and he knew, with a beautiful sort of sadness, that he never would again.

It's a sadness that has been knocking at my door for a long time, and I finally let it in.

A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure.

Don't cry. She wouldn't like it. When I missed my father, I used to cry. Mama taught me when I cry, he is sad and will cry, too. I don't want my daddy sad. I'm sure you don't want your daughter sad, too.

You’re everything to me. But at best, I’m just a memory to you.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despairRise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.

I could disappear from the face of the earth, and the world would go on moving without the slightest twinge. Things were tremendously complicated, to be sure, but one thing was clear: no one needed me.

Why do beautiful songs make you sad?' 'Because they aren't true.' 'Never?' 'Nothing is beautiful and true.

I wanted to cry so bad, but my tears are inside. A blindfold keeps them there. I can’t see today. Patti, I don’t know anything.

Then, all but instinctively, I took her in my arms. Pressed against me, her whole body trembling, she continued to cry without a sound.

The more she was absolutely in need of external friendship, the more disposed was she to reject it, and to declare to herself that she was prepared to stand alone in the world.

It’s just never going to get any easier is it. It’s never going away, this missing you. It’s going to become a sadness I incorporate into myself – along with all the other sadnesses – and quietly carry around with me forever…

All my life I'd been a believing Christian. ... But that instant in the ER--the instant Annette [his wife] died--I seemed to feel my religious faith die

Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of a pure heart.

I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry.Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.

Then I tell you that sadness, in a way, is just another form of beauty. It can be a bit more melancholic, dramatic, heart-breaking and so, so quiet. The most emotional of things, finding its reflection in the world in decay, are those things we love the most from time to time.

Chamara. What is the word that comes closest to it? Soo-Ja wondered. To stand it, to bear it, to grit your teeth and not cry out? To hold on, to wait until the worst is over? There is no other word for it, no way to translate it. It is not a word. It is a way to console yourself. He is not just telling her to stand the pain, but giving her comfort, the power to do so. Chamara is an incantation, and if she listens to its sound, she believes that she can do it, that she will push through this sadness. And if she is strong about it, she'll be rewarded in the end. It is a way of saying, I know, I feel it, too. This burns my heart, too.

If your anger is the result of your sadness or if your sadness is result of your anger , you are undoubtedly suffering from disorientation.

One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said, "We need a voice to call across the water, to warn ships; I'll make one. I'll make a voice like all of time and all of the fog that ever was; I'll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like trees in autumn with no leaves. A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore. I'll make a sound that's so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and hearths will seem warmer, and being inside will seem better to all who hear it in the distant towns. I'll make me a sound and an apparatus and they'll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life."The Fog Horn blew.

[F]or grief is felt not so much for the want of what we have never known, as for the loss of that to which we have been long accustomed.

Sometimes two people will regard each other over a gulf too wide to ever be bridged, and know immediately what could have happened, and that it never will.