Sadness Quotes - Page 27

Comfort is beauty muted by heroin. Sadness is beauty drained by lack of it.

Come here, let me share a bit of wisdom with you.Have you given much thought to our mortal condition?Probably not. Why would you? Well, listen.There's no one alivewho can say if he will be tomorrow.Our fate moves invisibly! A mystery.No one can teach it, no one can grasp it.Accept this! Cheer up! Have a drink!You can let the rest go. Am I making sense?I think so. How about a drink.Put on a garland. I'm surethe happy splash of wine will cure your mood.We're all mortal you know. Think mortal.Because my theory is, there's no such thing as life,

She’d left him.Without a word. Without a thought. She’d left him and now he hadfeelings.For that alone, he’d never forgive her.

Photos which captures human sadness are the noblest and the most meaningful of all the photos!

Women share their sadness, thought Edith. Their joy they like to show off to one another. Victory, triumph over the odds, calls for an audience. And that air of bustle and exigence sometimes affected by the sexually loquacious - that is for the benefit of other women. No solidarity then.

In life, sadness is inevitable. So, we must at least try to enjoy it.

I guess it's better to have a chalk smile, than an ink smile. Where chalk changes with the direction of wind, ink stays as a deep stain. Like rain, sun and hail against a fake plant.

It was the ghetto. I had seen them before from the high altitude of one who could look down and pity. Now I belonged here and the view was different. A first glance told it all. Here it was pennies and clutter and spittle on the curb... Here was the indefinable stink of despair. Here modesty was the luxury. People struggled for it... Here sensuality was escape, proof of manhood for people who could prove it no other way... Here hips drew the eye and flirted with the eye and caused the eye to lust or laugh. It was better to look at hips than at the ghetto.

She had quickly learned that to show unhappiness was to risk the loss of love.

Because I want to know if I'm allowed to kiss your tears away. Because I want to be able to hold your hand. Because I like you.

Quite a metaphor. The person in the most pain wins. Does that mean I get a Blue Ribbon?

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake.

I would write my tears, weeping out my pain - I would empty my veins for ink.

It’s true: A slice of pound cake does wonders to thaw the coldest of days.

What is it about me that gets them all crying? It’s not the end of the world.

Legacy. What is a legacy?It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.

She had loved him for such a long time, she thought. How was it that she did now know him at all?

After school the very next day, El Rey's mobile home was gone. I laid in bed and wondered what happens to people when they go, if they become like shadows, if they fade away when they disappear from your life. The only thing I could see was the broken picket fence. The only sound I could hear was the cry of birds being killed in the night.

They say the distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success, I believe you can say the same thing about the distance between good and evil.

And why had Deb's last boyfriend dumped her? I dumped him. Maybe you didn't French-kiss him enough. I promise you that wasn't it. Tell me how many times a day you kissed, and I'll say if it was enough. Four hundred. Not enough.

You are sorrow. You exist, even if joy is present. You’re not like them. You’re not like any other emotion. Hate and fear come and go, but you exist even when the breeze is clear of sadness. You are permanent and needed.

I never knew a sorrow that an hour of reading could not assuage, a great man had once said. Let's put it to the test.

Flowery tongues have thorny throats.

I thought living dead girls couldn't feel pain, thought I was emptied out but I'm not, I'm not.

There was this movie that I would watch with her all the time, some stupid chick flick, and it had this opening line that would always make her catch her breath. 'I remember it hurt. Looking at her hurt', and I now realize that it was true. Every day I looked at her, it hurt. Hurt so much, because she was dying, and I couldn't help her.

through the rose glass window in their beautiful new home, you stare at the love you gave away.

It doesn't mean anything;It doesn't change anything,Except the way I see myself,And it's not supposed to do that.I shouldn't feel this way;I should cry this way,But I kind of do.Yeah, I kind of do.

If one bad thing befell me, I immediately linked it to every bad thing that had happened in the last week or might happen in the coming week. And when I became sad, I was prone to wallow in grief, piling up my woes and sprawling on them like a dragon on a hoard.

My life, as it passes thus, was indeed hateful to me, and it was during sleep alone that I could taste joy. O blessed sleep!

Only strong people can find happiness from the sadness surrounding them.

Life is not a PG feel-good movie. Real life often ends badly. Literature tries to document this reality, while showing us it is still possible for us to endure nobly.

In vain we roared;in vain we triedTo rouse her into laughter:Her pensive glances wandered wideFrom orchestra to rafter -"TIER UPON TIER!" she said,and sighed;And silence followed after.

Most days I live awed by the world we have still, rather than mourning the worlds we have lost. The bandit mask of a cedar waxwing on a bare branch a few feet away; the clear bright sun of a frozen winter noon; the rise of Orion in the eastern evening sky-every day, every night, I give thanks for another chance to notice. I see beauty everywhere; so much beauty I often speak it aloud. So much beauty I often laugh, and my day is made.Still if you wanted to, I think, you could feel sadness without end. I’m not even talking about hungry children or domestic violence or endless wars between supposedly grown men…but ‘you mustn’t be frightened if a sadness rises in front of you, larger than any you even seen,' said Rilke, 'you must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in it hand and will not let you fall.

The sense that everything is going wrong has existed in every era, and rightly so since men have found no greater pleasure than in inventing new ways to make each other miserable.

There lives a weeperin each of us-a silent mourner honoring our despairwhen our willingness slain by helplessness continues to resurrect to be slaughtered again

You think being dead inside is bad until someone brings you back to life and stabs you in the chest without the intention of killing you.

you keep me going when i feel like a flat tyreyou do my head right, like a hair dryercan i call you my machanic since you change my mood and get me feeling like i have got a spare tyre.

Dear, sweet, beautiful girl,

This empty shell holds nothing but the echoes of what was.

I sometimes wish I could spontaneously combust. Burn until nothing but ash is left, to be washed away by the wind and the rain.

People do not die from suicide. They die from sadness.

He doesn’t understand why Harry is doing this to him, why Harry is trying to pull him apart. He doesn’t understand how Harry has seen past his carefully crafted display. Louis has got smoke and mirrors down to a science, he knows how to deflect and he knows how to act and he’s managed to keep people at arms length so nobody would ever question how the magic works. He’s got his relationship with Zayn and Liam down to an art, how to give enough so that he doesn’t have to lie to them, but able to keep them from knowing how close he is to the edge. Yet here is Harry, ready to unravel everything Louis has sewn together.

The process of living, for each of us, is pretty similar. For every gain there is a setback. For every success, a failure. For every moment of joy, a time of sadness. For every hope realized, one is dashed.

The closer we try to get to God, the more we will hate to sin in our own lives, the more we are saddened by the thoughts that runs through our minds. I also think that the more we draw closer to God, the more God will honour us and will open doors for the right things to happen in our life.

Forgiveness is a transformative act because it asks you to be a more empathetic and compassionate person, thereby making you better than the person you were when you were first hurt.

Remember what I said when I led to Omar and the queen?" I bobbed my head, unable to look away from his jewel-like eyed, shining in the darkness...so much like Chorda's. "That was the lie. Good-bye, Lane," he said and then crept into the darkness.

When he came home early, he was dreary. There, he'd sit by the fireplace, his worn hands gripping the newspaper a bit too tight, his eyes held to it, unseeing, towards the words, the meaningless grouping of letters on that newspaper. The fire would cackle, sizzle, full of life, so opposite to this man, whose face was crossed with the burdens of the world, and lips pressed thing under that bushy mustache. His grief sat on him like a cloud, sending him into a dimension that left his eyes two empty coals, his chest an impossible storm. He spoke to no one, and hardly did anyone speak to him, because words were never something he was good at. Then, when the sky darkened, he's stand, and trudge to his room, where his bed waited, cold and hungry, just as he'd always known it to be.

She's known sadness. That's what it is. I only just thought that as I wrote it. She's known sadness, and it has made her kind.

I never even heard her voice."And after a while:"It is a strange grief."Softly:"To die of nostalgia for something you never lived.

Everyone’s pain is different,” Reece went on. “I don’t like when people compare. I don’t like when people marginalize their feelings because they think they’re not allowed to have them. Someone will always have a tougher go than you. Does that mean you’re not allowed to feel hurt? To be sad?

I wear a necklace of hope with pearly beads. When I met you, it broke, and the beads spilled all over the floor, into the gutters.

If you see me standing on my head, I'm trying to cheer you up with my frown. I need my honesty, you my pleasantry.

You are alone,So alone,You speak back to silence.People call it loneliness,You call it solitude,Different words,Meaning the same pain.

Without further ado I left the place, finding my route by the marks I had made on the way in. As I walked in the dark through the tunnels and tunnels of books, I could not help being overcome by a sense of sadness. I couldn't help thinking that if I, by pure chance, had found a whole universe in a single unknown book, buried in that endless necropolis, tens of thousands more would remain unexplored, forgotten forever. I felt myself surrounded by millions of abandoned pages, by worlds and souls without an owner sinking in an ocean of darkness, while the world that throbbed outside the library seemed to be losing its memory, day after day, unknowingly, feeling all the wiser the more it forgot.

Sadness gives depth. Happiness gives height. Sadness gives roots. Happiness gives branches. Happiness is like a tree going into the sky, and sadness is like the roots going down into the womb of the earth. Both are needed, and the higher a tree goes, the deeper it goes, simultaneously. The bigger the tree, the bigger will be its roots. In fact, it is always in proportion. That's its balance.

I’m not weeping, I’m not complaining,Happiness is not for me.

It doesn't matter if you never see someone again, I told myself. There are millions of people in the world, and most of them never see each other in the first place.

I am the shade. Through the dolent city, i flee. Through the eternal woe, i take flight..

Thoughts can only hurt you with your permission, feelings can only wound you with your consent, experiences can only damage you with your authorization; life can only ruin you with your approval.

This will be a winter so desolate, only memory can fill the emptiness