Quotes About Absence

Then a month after Bernard's sixteenth birthday, Sir Aubrey came down to breakfast, and so did Dudley and so did Joan. They helped themselves to kedgeree and scrambled eggs and kidneys and bacon. Then Sir Aubrey rang for the footman to bring fresh coffee and said, "Where's Bernard? The wretched boy is late again." But Bernard wasn't late--he was gone, and nobody from Westwood ever set eyes on him again.

And guess what he finds. Nothing. And I mean that literally. Not a de Brogliesque absence of presence but a Tertullian presence of absence.

During the crusades all were religious mad, and now all are mad for want of it.

A necessary consequent of religious belief is the attaching ideas of merit to that belief, and of demerit to its absence.

Because the American credit reporting system relies on both good and bad reports of creditworthiness, a consumer must have some kind of credit - not just the absence of bad credit.

It would be hard to ignore the absence of democracy in any Arab nation.

Every painted image of something is also about the absence of the real thing. All painting is about the presence of absence.

The rest of the house is silent. Is funny how you don't notice silence most of the time. But silence is a sound in itself, a-true. Silence is the humming absence of a tangible sound that you can ascribe to something. Actually, you only really experience silence when you dead, although that theory is hypothetical and not one I'd like to put to the test.

Hope is almost dead in you, forever. All that's left of it is that last gleam, without which any task is impossible and any merit vain. That's what really matters -- the absence of hope. Everything else is nothing.

the house breathes differently when Yazz isn't there

jOrdnung ist heutzutage meistens dort, wo nichts ist. Es ist eine Mangelerscheinung.

What happens to the hole when the cheese is gone?

It seemed to be a makeshift replacement for love, absenting oneself from stifling atmospheres, because love basically was a torrential storm of feeling; it thrived only in partnership with laughing generosity and truthfulness.

But don't go thinking that I'm critical of you, Anton, because really I'm not. Not a bit! It's just that you're not here. I'm alone and I'm frightened and you're not here. And you're not ever going to be here for me.

Six years is plenty long enough to soothe the tearing anguish of...death, but maybe no amount of time is enough to soothe something that is no longer there. Something like an emptiness that can never be filled because it's only a bit of space carved out of air.

[W]hen the mind is really absent, in that silence, in that unlimited space, your potential starts glowing, radiating, flowering. Suddenly you are full of cherry blossoms, a new presence, a new fragrance.

Absent in body, but present in spirit.

When God creates peace, it is based on the presence of a Person called the Prince of Peace. That peace also has a military effect: "And the God of peace will crush Satan under your feet" (Romans 16:20). Outside the Kingdom of God, peace is the absence of something, whereas in the Kingdom of God, it is the presence of Someone.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone and this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.

I have no worthwhile memories of my father, therefore no idea of what a father's role should be.

One of the regrettable things in my life is that my dad was not around to see my stardom, to see me wrestle or to see what I achieved by the dream I had at an early age, influenced by where he would like to go.

When goodness removes itself, the space it occupies corrodes and becomes evil, and maybe splits apart and multiplies. So every evil thing is a sign of the absence of deity.

Sorrow has a name, and its name is loneliness. Sorrow has a shape, and its shape is absence. Sorrow is a sickness like any other.

She put her face against Glinda's and kissed her. 'Hold out, if you can,' she murmured, and kissed her again. 'Hold out, my sweet.' [...] It was astounding how quickly she became camouflaged in the ragamuffin variety of street life on the Emerald City. Or maybe it was foolish tears blurring Glinda's vision. Elphaba hadn't cried, of course. Her head had turned quickly as she stepped down, not to hide her tears but to soften the fact of their absence. But the sting, to Glinda, was real.