Quotes About Abandonment

When all is said and done, I will be the one to leave you in the misery and hate what you've become

Cuando las personas que amamos, o aquellas por las que sentimos una profunda conexión, dejan de preocuparse por nosotros, de prestarnos atención, de invertir tiempo o de luchar por la relación, la confianza empieza a esfumarse y se abren las heridas. La desconexión desencadena vergüenza y nuestros peores temores: el temor al abandono, a no ser merecedores, a no ser dignos de ser amados. Lo que hace que esta traición encubierta sea mucho más

this betrayal usually happens long before the other ones. I'm talking about the betrayal of disengagement. Of not caring. Of letting the connection go. Of not being willing to devote time and effort to the relationship.

Disengagement triggers shame and our greatest fears—the fears of being abandoned, unworthy, and unlovable.

We are all subject to forgetfulness of God's faithfulness in the past, laziness to act on the divine promise, and postponing until tomorrow what Jesus is asking of us today: childlike abandonment in trust.

Abandonment is the triumph of trust in our lives.

The strange and scattered pieces of ourselves we leave behind,

In general, the problem with secularized mindfulness techniques is that when they find it convenient, they abandon—or at least put out of sight on the sidelines— the crucial ethical and religious contexts in which these Buddhist meditative practices have traditionally been embedded.

there's a difference between having no one because you've chosen it and having no one because everyone has been taken away.

It struck Wallander that nothing could make him as depressed as the sight of old spectacles that nobody wanted anymore.

That is about as close as one can get to the greatest loneliness of all, he thought. Being all alone in the world. The final human being, forgotten about.

the remnants of a person's life inevitably ended up at the nearest dump.

Do not tell everyone your story. You will only end up feeling more rejected. People cannot give you what you long for in your heart. The more you expect from people's response to your experience of abandonment, the more you will feel exposed to ridicule.

I have also learned to catch the darkness early, not to allow sadness to grow into depression or let a sense of being rejected develop into a feeling of abandonment. Even in the renewed and deepened friendship, I feel the freedom to point to the little clouds and ask for help in letting them pass by.

Often it seems that beneath the pleasantries of daily life there are many gaping wounds that carry such names as abandonment, betrayal, rejection, rupture, and loss.

One generation abandons the enterprises of another like stranded vessels.

What is left to Lust when its cravings at last subside, as subside in the end they will? It is alone. It has died. It has made no bonds and is in the desert that it has made, with no longer even a craving.

Nothing was a pleasure to her now; how could anything be a pleasure to a woman who knew that she had thrown away her life? There was an everlasting weight on her heart — there was a livid light on everything.

I was alive. But I was alive without a memory, without a name; I was cut off from hope as well as from remorse or regret. I had no past and would probably have no future; I was buried alive in a void which was the wound that had been dealt me. I was like the wound itself.

Mijn vrienden daarentegen verschansten zich nog steviger in de kleine loopgraaf van het begrijpen, een loopgraaf die ze voor zichzelf gegraven hadden. Ze stierven heel comfortabel in hun bedje van begrijpen, werden nuttige leden van de maatschappij. Ik had medelijden met hen, en al heel gauw liet ik ze, zonder de minste spijt, één voor één in de steek.

wasteland resembling those vast areas of Australia where the dodo bird, shunned by other feathered species of the bush, forlornly buries his head in the sand and whistles out the other end.

They tell me sir, that Stubb did once desert poor Pip, whose drowned bones now show white, for all the blackness of his living skin. But I will never desert ye sir, as Stubb did him.

Few years ago when I visited a palliative care centre in Chennai for the first time, it completely moved me. It's an emotionally draining experience. I saw and met patients who were abandoned by their families, and there is complete sense of hopelessness. Ever since, I have been a supporter for the need for funding and awareness of palliative care.

I abandoned my second novel completely. Writing 'Kavalier & Clay,' I had several moments of utter collapse. Same with 'The Yiddish Policemen's Union.'