Quotes About Goodbyes

After a few minutes, it was time for me to leave. I don't know who decides these things. It just happens.

Time goes. Friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody.

The goodbyes we speak and the goodbyes we hear are the good byes that tell us we're still alive.

The world is full of lasts,

Some won't stay but thank them for stopping by.

Por qué todo lo maravilloso tiene que quedar atrás?, pensó. ¿Por qué tenía que haber tantos adioses en la vida?

But good-byes are hard to say . . . when a friendship is a very close one.

I sighed. Two goodbyes in one night. It was depressing. And it wasn't as though I had a whole Rolodex full of friends. But no sense being sentimental about it. Sentiment is stupid.

The goodbyes we speak and the goodbyes we hear are the goodbyes that tell us we're still alive, after all.

What our lives but a series of farewells and returns, no?

My sorrow at leaving was confined to a gloom at separating from Bailey for a month (we had never been parted), the imagined loneliness of Uncle Willie (he put on a good face, though at thirty-five he'd never been separated from his mother) and the loss of Louise, my first friend. I wouldn't miss Mrs. Flowers, for she had given me her secret word which called forth a djinn who was to serve me all my life: books.

Even though Paul knew farewells were inevitable, he still formed deep relationships.

It's definitely intense to walk away from at the end of each season.

As an actor you can't build up proper relationships with the people you work with, because after six months, you're done.

You get used to falling in love with people and having to let them go.

For the first time in my life, I felt the pain of missing people I had not yet left.

Irish people give big hellos and very little goodbyes. Unless they're female, and then they spend five hours talking in the doorway to the person that's leaving their house.

And Mademoiselle Dupre, finding everything unintelligible, was completely reassured: such good-bys were normal among the unfortunate English-speakers, an uncouth language, it affected their minds; or perhaps, poor people, it was not given to all languages to perform with the precision, the clarity, the grace of a French epigram.

Remembering now all those farewells (fake farewells, worked-up farewells), Irena thinks: a person who messes up her goodbyes shouldn't expect much from her re-unions.

We are mortals all, human and nonhuman, bound in one fellowship of love and travail. No one escapes the fate of death. But we can, with caring, make our good-byes less tormented. If we broaden the circle of our compassion, life can be less cruel.

Maybe it's not the first kisses that are meant to be special. Maybe it's the last ones.

There would be lots of holding and kissing and talking and laughter and no good-byes left unsaid.

My friends, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of 'I could have, I should have.' We can sleep in a storm. "And when it's time, our good-byes will be complete.

Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of 'I could have, I should have.' We can sleep in a storm. "And when it's time, our good-byes will be complete.