Quotes About Separation

Minu jaoks on abielu nagu operatsioon, mis õmbleb kaks inimest kokku; lahutus seevastu meenutab amputatsiooni ja sellest tervenemine võtab kõvasti aega. Mida kauem kooselu kestis või mida jõhkramalt teid lahku amputeeriti, seda raskem on lahutusest toibuda.

I see marriage as an operation that sews two people together, and divorce is a kind of amputation that can take a long time to heal. The longer you were married, or the rougher the amputation, the harder it is to recover.

That's just ego, trying to make sure it stays in charge. This is what your ego does. It keeps you feeling separate, keeps you with a sense of duality, tries to convince you that you're flawed and broken and alone instead of whole.

All lovers, even the most faithful lovers, are vulnerable to abandonment against their will. I know this simple fact to be true, for I myself have abandoned people who did not want me to go, and I myself have been abandoned by those whom I begged to stay.

That's just your ego, trying to make sure it stays in charge. This is what your ego does. It keeps you feeling separate, keeps you with a sense of duality, tries to convince you that you're flawed and broken and alone instead of whole.

It has been so hard for me to imagine living a life without him in it. Even just to imagine that there will never be another road trip with my favourite travelling companion.

The time we spent together happened outside of the world, is how it felt.

And what of those losses that seem unbearable? Separations from people we feel we can't live without?' 'Perhaps our ruin honours the strength of our love.

My guess is that he remembers some of me, some of us together, and the rest rolled off him like topsoil in a flash flood.

And I always return to the illusion that we are still together, and then -unwillingly- to the knowledge that you have made a hostage of my memory...

They got me reading people like physicist David Bohm with new and passionate interest. He helped me because he turned the essential question upside down. I'd been asking, since everything in the world looks so separate, how can the connections that would seem to be required by this evidence be possible? On the other hand, Bohm was asking, since everything in the world is interconnected, how come everything looks so separate?

Many are the friendships that have found an unforseeen and sudden end on a journey, and few are those that survive it.

The people I love are always somewhere else and not able to come to me.

Time to talk over every day of the time they had been apart, time to reach the companionable silences when all that needed to be said was said. And all this the gift of Brother Mark. Wonderful what riches a man can bestow who by choice and vocation possesses nothing! The world is full of small, beneficent miracles.

He seems so near, and yet so far.

She might be a protector, but she was not a real companion; and he knew that somewhere or other he had left a lot of other real companions whom he now missed dreadfully.

For till the thunder and trumpet be, Soul may divide from body, but not we One from another

But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart, Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart; And deep in one is the bitter root, And sweet for one is the lifelong flower.

For till thunder in the trumoet be, Soul may divide from body but not we One from another

But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.

I wished that my own bones were unbound, I wished they were mingling, picked clean by fish, with the bones of another body, a body my bones and heart and soul had loved with unfathomable certainty for decades, and both of us down deep now, lost to everything but the fact of bare bones on a dark seabed.

I really like you better aimless and lost among people, a little crazy, oddball, not looking like yourself. So that I don't know you at all and the nearer I get to you the more you separate yourself from me-- I get dizzy trying to follow you and I have to work really hard-- and that's what I want!

The hymn of greeting rose in mournful cadence: "Freshie! Freshie! How-de-do! We're all waiting here for you. Hold your head up! Square each shoulder! Thrust your chest out! Do look bolder! Mamma's precious—papa's man— Keep the tears back if you can. Sob! Sob! Sob! It's an awful job— Freshie's leaving home and mo-o-ther!

till we meet again, my heart awaits you. till we meet again, you will trouble my dreams