Quotes About Heartache

I felt the warm brush of his fingers pushing the key into mine all the way to my heart. I focused on the key because if I looked up, I'd see what he was feeling. Worse, he'd see what I was feeling -- in a minute what I was feeling was going to be spilling out of me, and it didn't make any sense. It had been over long ago; we had just finally got around to saying good-bye, that was all.

Why did we all crave love so badly when half the time it left us annihilated?

He won't feel a fraction of what I do for you. You won't change his life. And you will always wonder about what could have been, always feel that funny little ache right here." He puts his hand over your heart.

Being alone wasn't nearly as lonely as being with people who didn't love you

I wished it had turned out differently. I wished I had been better all around. I wished above all that when I believed something, like that I was finally over her, that I knew myself even the slightest bit.

In the past, the starting point of my relationships was what I wanted instead of what God wanted. I looked out for my needs and fit others into my agenda. Did I find fulfillment? No, I found only compromise and heartache. I not only hurt others; I also hurt myself, and most seriously, I sinned against God.

Just because lips have met doesn't mean hearts have joined. And just because two bodies are drawn to each other doesn't mean two people are right for each other. A physical relationship does not equal love.

Tears are words the mouth can't say nor can the heart bare.

Bless the poets, the workers for justice, the dancers of ceremony, the singers of heartache, the visionaries, all makers and carriers of fresh meaning—We will all make it through, despite politics and wars, despite failures and misunderstandings. There is only love.

Be who you are, even if it kills you. It will. Over and over again. Even as you live. Break my heart, why don't you?

Lo que lo jode todo siempre. El amor verdadero.

Donde hay amor hay ingentes, interminables, cantidades de sufrimiento. El que causas, el que te causan.

Claro que, onde há amor, há consideráveis, intermináveis, quantidades de sofrimento. O que nós causamos e o que os outros nos causam.

She simply cannot let go of love- and who can blame that? Is it not the hardest thing in the world to relinquish, once you have it?

Ain't easy turning loose of heartache. Sometimes we take a step forward and then fall back to our old ways. When that happens, you jest gotta admit it and try again.

I loved him like a fever. Then he left. He kicked through love like it was dust and he kept on walking.

I knew that the deepest of tragedies was simple: to love, and not to be loved in return.

My father's death was the most terrible thing that happened to me in my life.

Love is an ugly, terrible business practiced by fools. It'll trample your heart and leave you bleeding on the floor. And what does it really get you in the end? Nothing but a few incredible memories that you can't ever shake.

She prayed for strength. Strength to endure the love she still felt for Leon Andreakos, would feel till the end of her days—a man who did not love her. Who never had. Who never could.

In her heart she longed for this man, dreamed of a life that could never be.

Heartache, Daphne eventually learned, never really went away; it just dulled. The sharp, stabbing pain that one felt with each breath eventually gave way to a blunter, lower ache—the kind that one could almost—but never quite—ignore.

Unrequited love was never easy, but at least Penelope Featherington was used to it.

Why waste romance on a love that would never be returned?