Quotes About Bittersweet

Christmas Day itself is always bittersweet, because it's the last day of that beautiful magick that's been building up like a tidal wave for the past month. In just a week it will be hard to even remember what it's like. I'll be brokenhearted at the thought of it being gone again for an entire year.

11:20 a.m. This is my fabulous life: the Sex God left for Whakatane last month and he has taken my heart with him. 11:25 a.m. Not literally, of course, otherwise there would be a big hole in my nunga-nungas. 11:28 a.m. And also I would be dead. Which quite frankly would be a blessing in disguise.

Life is bittersweet. Sometimes bitter. Sometimes sweet. Sometimes both. Your view of God's sovereignty will determine how you respond to the chaos in life.

Bittersweet memories that is all I'm taking with me. So, goodbye. Please, don't cry.

In life, as in art, some endings are bittersweet. Especially when it comes to love. Sometimes fate throws two lovers together only to rip them apart. Sometimes the hero finally makes the right choice but the timing is all wrong. And, as they say, timing is everything. Looks like this story might just have a second act. Let's hope it's not a tragedy.

Like a deep sad noteplayed beneath the oceanwaving through the orbthe memories of youthe bittersweet echoesinfixed forever in my heart

Life at best is bittersweet.

There's a strange sensation - you recall it from childhood - about sleeping in the afternoon. You rise into a different world from the one in which you lay down. The shadows have been rearranged. There's a sensation of sad sweetness, as if something has been overlooked. I used to feel it coming out of the movies just before dinnertime, after the matinee. How, I wondered, did Broadway actors face it, this bittersweet sense of time's slipping past.

The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy; but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted: thence proceeds mawkishness, and all the thousand bitters which those men I speak of must necessarily taste in going over the following pages.

I wish they had a word for being happy and sad at the same time because that's what I feel every time I am with you.

That it shall never come again is what makes life so sweet.

The last taste of sweets is sweetest last.

The tender friendships one gives up, on parting, leave their bite on the heart, but also a curious feeling of a treasure somewhere buried.

I was raped by a doctor. Which is, you know, so bittersweet for a Jewish girl.

They talk some more, Will prompting Peter into remembering their early childhood on the barge. How their parents always went that extra mile to make their infancy special, like the time they brought a freshly killed department store Santa Clause home for their midnight Christmas feast.

Was this what fame was like? Like a permanent bittersweet cocktail of worship and assault? It was no wonder so many famous people went off the rails when the rails veered in every direction. It was like being slapped and kissed at the same time.

Farewell is a beautiful and a soft word and yet it is a horrible and a heavy thing too!

Farewell is a beautiful and a soft word and yet it is a horrible and a heavy thing!

I've sold my soul for freedom. It's lonely but it's sweet.

going to be a hard place to leave, but Ballymena was no

Summer has always been good to me, even the bittersweet end, with the slanted yellow light.

Summer has always been good to me, even the bittersweet end, with the slant of yellow light.

Your reading of these words is very beautiful and, somehow, very sad, because we both know it must end.

But lying one night in my old bunk under a wide open window listening to a screech owl trying to terrify me with a woman's screams and only making me happy—the bittersweet cry of undigestible beauty and great impending loss—then it came to me: the obvious epiphany that he was reliving his life. Doh. Slide by slide, picture by picture. He was aggregating memory like a wall against extinction and the little boxes of slides were his bricks.