Sadness Quotes - Page 33

No one knows if I'm dying to laugh or to crySo my verse hasthis almost imperceptible thrillLife is sad, the world is crazy!Not worth killing yourself for itNot for anyoneFor no loveLife goes on, indifferently!

Screaming at children over their grades, especially to the point of the child's tears, is child abuse, pure and simple. It's not funny and it's not good parenting. It is a crushing, scarring, disastrous experience for the child. It isn't the least bit funny.

No child should ever be too sad to play.

Silent tears are the worst. It's the sign of a broken spirit. No sound, no residual emotions... just tears. Silent, unstoppable tears.

There is nothing so cleansing or reassuring as a vicarious sadness.

Today’s storms usher in tomorrow’s sunshine.

Her face expressed suffering so deep that I will never forget it; her eyes radiated a deep sadness...Mrs. Folmer was oppressed by that special sadness, perhaps the most horrible torture, of those who had no idea what happened to their loved ones.

You've left me with a kaleidoscope of broken smiles and shattered dreams.

To be an American is to be accosted by bigotry and enmity for the rights that you were told to appreciate.

I remember you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know.

You're sad but you hold everything back...

You hold an absence at your center, as if it were a life.

You must really love this guy, huh? I mean, to be crying as ugly as you are?

You're a dead man". I hear his voice again, and I see the words on my face when I get back in the cab and look in the rearview mirror.It makes me think of my life, my nonexistent accomplishments and my overall abilities in incompetence."A dead man", I think. He's not far wrong.

...she imagines her body curled in the narrow monk's bed, knees to chin, her own irrefutable geography, but she sees the blood of her futile heart seeping out over her chest and arms and legs, flooding across the rough wooden floor, down the narrow wooden stairs and out into the old soil of the garden. No roses, no, she does not even ask to make roses, just dissolution; most any night she asks just for that.

To be forgotten by the one to whom you never forget is the worst thing ever happens.

No need to look to see if your former home has vanished yet into the humdrum gray behind you; you'll be able to feel it, the sudden eclipse of the tractor beam the house puts out. Of its forcefield of sadness.

When life’s journey is wearisome, put on hope’s shoes.

Darling, no one would ever dream of performing an operation on a child without testing it first. And no one in a thousand years would take a child's daemon away altogether! All that happens is a little cut, and then everything's peaceful. Forever! You see, your daemon's a wonderful friend and com panion when you're young, but at the age we call puberty, the age you're coming to very soon, darling, daemons bring all sort of troublesome thoughts and feelings, and that's what lets Dust in. A quick little operation before that, and you're never troubled again. And your daemon stays with you, only...just not connected. Like a... like a wonderful pet, if you like. The best pet in the world!Wouldn't you like that? (Marisa Coulter)

Mearth appeared angry and disappointed briefly, but then she just gazed at the ground. “…It must be horrible, feeling all alone, is it?” she asked.“Oh, not really,” said Alecto, his eyes lifeless, his voice listless. “I’m going to be forgotten by someone who I can’t forget, though. That will be terrible… but maybe it’s better if she does forget me altogether.

The face of poverty is a mixture of sincerity and sadness!

He may take long walksin the raining darkalmost aimlesslyto a spot of soaked grassin a neighbor’s open field.He’s decided this is the placefor you and him to meet again.

Have you ever thought, thought your heart would break? Wished you could cut open your chest tear it out to stop the pain? Why don´t you riot like everyone else. I don't care, life's too long. You can have any man you want. I want him...except him. Always suspected the world didn't smell of fresh paint and flowers. Smells of piss and human sweat If there could have been more moments like this.

Knowing the Techniques of Survival........Our fears and anxieties will often drive us to build impenetrable walls that act like blinders deflecting others and preventing us from seeing who surrounds us. Getting focused to the things that matter are the Key to what has to be to COMPLETE our MISSION. "I Had Every Excuse to Fail but I Chose None" Speak Life!!!(sky)

Never say you understand someone's pain if you haven't felt the same, because not only would you sound mocking but also ignorant.

When your sad--like really sad--you only want to be with other people who are sad.

She deserved someone who could see what she had to give and would lover her for it. Who wouldn't turn away from her every time she made a mistake. She wanted to be important to someone. Perhaps, it was unrealistic, but the alternative was far worse. She could live with a broken heart, but not at the expense of her soul.

I had someone once who made every day mean something.And now…. I am lost….And nothing means anything anymore.

I nodded, trying to imagine the very particular sadness of a vanished childhood yogurt now found only in France. It was a very special sort of sadness, individual, and in its inability to induce sympathy, in its tuneless spark, it bypassed poetry and entered science.

for we all have our own twilights and mistsand abyssesto return to.

Pain could be killed. Sadness could not, but the drugs did shut its mouth for a time.

I never expected to fall in love. I never expected to float or fall a thousand feet and create the crevice I called my life. But the thing with crevices, there’s always a top and always a bottom. And the feeling of appreciation when you look from the top and understand how fast it can all come crashing down — it’s more than beautiful and more than words could ever explain.

For, thought Ahab, while even the highest earthly felicities ever have a certain unsignifying pettiness lurking in them, but, at bottom, all heartwoes, a mystic significance, and, in some men, an archangelic grandeur; so do their diligent tracings-out not blue the obvious deduction. To trail the genealogies of these high mortal miseries, carries us at last among the sourceless primogenitures of the gods; so that, in the face of all the glad, hay-making suns, and the softcymballing, round the harvest-moons, we must needs give in to this: that the gods themselves are not for ever glad. The ineffaceable, sad birth-mark in the brow of man, is but the stamp of sorrow in the signers.

There are no sad days, only sad thoughts.

Your deepest valleys lead you to your highest mountaintops.

…the sad part is, that I will probably end up loving you without you for much longer than I loved you when I knew you.Some people might find that strange.But the truth of it is that the amount of love you feel for someone and the impact they have on you as a person, is in no way relative to the amount of time you have known them.

I wanted to write you a story about magic. I wanted rabbits appearing from hats. I wanted balloons lifting you into the sky. It turned out to be nothing but sadness, war, heartbreak. You never saw it, but there’s a garden inside me.

The fact that Ridge has been honest in his conversations with me is not something he did wrong. The fact that he has feelings for me also isn’t wrong, when you know exactly how much he’s fought those feelings. People can’t control matters of the heart, Warren. They can only control their actions, which is exactly what Ridge did. He lost control once for ten seconds, but after that, every single time temptation reared its ugly head, he walked in the other direction. The only thing Ridge has done wrong is fail to delete his messages, because by doing so, he failed to protect Maggie. He failed to protect her from the harsh truth that people don’t get to choose who they fall in love with. They only get to choose who they stay in love with.” I look up at the ceiling and blink back tears. “He was choosing to stay in love with her, Warren. Why can’t she see that? This will kill him so much more than it’s killing her.

Thinking is a personalized activity that can lead us into a state of happiness or cause us to be sad. Who we are becomes a product of how we think. What we think about and how we integrate knowledge into a comprehensive schema regulates our evolving self-identity. The precision of the human mind and the interplay between cognitive thinking and reactive emotions plays a central role in self-identity.

Some people tire me emotionally, not that they personally do anything to me, but their presence. Their presence sometimes is so heavy on the heart, and I just feel smothered by them.

Oh Mom, it turns out my knight in shining armor was just some liar in tinfoil.

Is that what makes me sad? The eagerness and belief that filled me then and exacted a pledge from life that life could never fulfill?

Nothing is more painful than the loneliness of being with someone who is never completely there.

And sometimes if I wantTo imagine I’m a lamb(Or a whole flockSpreading out all over the hillsideSo I can be a lot of happy things at the same time),It’s only because I feel what I write at sunset,Or when a cloud passes its hand over the lightAnd silence runs over the grass outside.When I sit and write poemsOr, walking along the roads or pathways,I write poems on the paper in my thoughts,I feel a staff in my handAnd see my silhouetteOn top of a knoll,Looking after my flock and seeing my ideas,Or looking after my ideas and seeing my flock,With a silly smile like someone who doesn’t understand what somebody’s sayingBut tries to pretend they do.

We are so much distracted nowadays. There is so much distractions in the world today call it internet, media, football matches etc. but don't let it consume you.

How little our careers express what lies in us, and yet how much time they take up. It's sad, really.

For the first time in years, he felt the deep sadness of exile, knowing that he was alone here, an outsider, and too alert to the ironies, the niceties, the manners, and indeed, the morals to be able to participate.

Happiness is that which occurs when you know what sadness is, and that you possess neither it nor the attributes of it. So is sadness, that you know what happiness is, and that you possess neither happiness nor its attributes.

You cry in your room. I cry in my room. Mom cries in Mom's room. And in the morning everyone pretends like they never cried once in their life.

Spontaneous insanity is the real bliss! It's sad that we are honored for playing sane, serious, safe, miserable and controlling in this poor world.

They can't see your painThey can't see your sadness They will smile if you smile to themThey will leave you if you frown to them

He had a sadness in his eyes that Carrie recognised as regret.

Will I begin it? said Doyler laughing. That's all that's in it, he laughing said.Oh sure that grin. Oh sure that wonderful saucerful grin. Jim sat on the grass and he plucked at the blades. He knew for certain sure that Doyler would be turning from him again. He said, You'll be walking away from me soon, won't you now? There was no answer. Jim plucked the grass and stared beyond where the waves broke on the island shore. He said, I wish you wouldn't Doyler. It does break my heart when you walk away.Old pal o' me heart, said Doyler.But already he had turned, and he was walking away. Walking that slow dreadful slope with never a leaf or a stone. Walking; and though Jim tried to keep pace, e could not, and sometimes he called out, Doyler! Doyler! but he never heard or he did not heed, only farther and farther he walked away. And when Jim woke from these dreams, if he did not remember, he knew he had dreamt, for the feeling inside him of not feeling at all. And it was hard then to make his day.

Never Expect Loyalty From A Person That Can't Give You Honesty.

I was wishing I was invisible. Outside, the leaves were falling to the ground, and I was infinitely sad, sad down to my bones. I was sad for Phoebe and her parents and Prudence and Mike, sad for the leaves that were dying, and sad for myself, for something I had lost.

Most of you have been where I am tonight. The crash site of unrequited love. You ask yourself, How did I get here? What was it about? Was it her smile? Was it the way she crossed her legs, the turn of her ankle, the poignant vulnerability of her slender wrists? What are these elusive and ephemeral things that ignite passion in the human heart? That's an age-old question. It's perfect food for thought on a bright midsummer's night.

Sadness is a grieve spirit.

What if you are just destined to get hurt, to be helplessly stuck in a point of time you no longer want to be? Maybe life is all about trying to get up while you fall a little bit deeper in the pits of hell, each time you try not to...

She wasn't sad. Not sad, more like... empty.

Wanting to cry doesn't mean you can.