Quotes About Departure

them already packed and waiting.

What happened in our house taught my brothers how to leave, how to walk down a sidewalk without looking back.

imagine that it were given back to me to be the child who knew departure would be sweet, the boy who drew square-rigged ships, the girl who knew truck routes from ottawa to mexico, the me who found a door in latin verse and made a map out of hexameters.

I can forgive you for leaving, but not for coming back.

I have forgiven you. Nevertheless, begone!

Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.

Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack And leave your friends and go.

Thank you for your coffee, seignior. I shall miss that when we leave Casablanca.

Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, advanced a stage or two upon that road which you must travel in the steps they trod.

If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?

Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.

The only certain freedom's in departure.

For all the philosophical treatises and for all the assurances of the medical profession, there is no cure for the simple fact that we must leave each other.

Me explicaron que era una cordial invitación a que me fuera de inmediato.

Se despidieron y en el adiós ya estaba la bienvenida

existe algo más natural que irse de este mundo?)

En los primeros tiempos el exilio era, entre otras cosas, el duro hueso de vivir distante. Ahora es también el de morirse lejos.

bueno, la muerte de Isabel es algo fuerte, pero no puedo llamarla terrible; después de todo, ¿existe algo más natural que irse de este mundo?), que frenaran mis mejores impulsos, que impidieran mi desarrollo

Soon, the two of them would leave this spot. . . walk into the house and into a whole changed world. . .

It was with heavy hearts that they took leave of one another.

It had been so brief a sojourn, not even a full century. He had been a guest in a mansion and he was not ungrateful. He was at once exhausted and refreshed. His stay was ended. Now he must gather up the shabby impedimenta of his mind and body and be on his way again.

When he came there was no light. When he left there was no darkness.

The pattern is sadly familiar in church history: a cooling of the church's love for Christ, then its replacement by a love for the things of the world, resulting in compromise and spiritual corruption, followed by a departure from the faith and loss of effective spiritual testimony.

Gone. The saddest word in the language. In any language.