Quotes About Heartache

Love is easily killed.

How long could you love a woman who didn't love you, Cecil? A woman who didn't love me? Oh, all my life!

I have given away my whole soul to some one who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer's day.

The simple things come back to us. They rest for a moment by our ribcages then suddenly reach in and twist our hearts a notch backward. No

Just take me with you. Please. I cant. Please, Papa. I cant. I cant hold my son dead in my arms. I thought I could but I cant.

Sorry. Don't need sorry. Not in this house. Sorry laid the hearth here. Sorry ways and sorry people and heavensent grief and heartache to make you pine for your death.

The incinerate corpses shrunk to the size of a child and propped on the bare springs of the seats. Ten thousand dreams ensepulchred within their crozzled hearts.

Se quedó escuchando el goteo del agua en el bosque. Lecho rocoso, este. El frío y el silencio. Las cenizas del mundo difunto trajinadas de acá para allá por los crudos y transitorios vientos en el vacío. Llevadas, esparcidas y llevadas de nuevo. Todo desencajado de su apuntalamiento. Sin soporte en el viento cinéreo. Sostenido por una respiración, temblorosa y breve. Ojalá mi corazón fuese de piedra.

He knew that those things we most desire to hold in our hearts are often taken from us while that which we would put away seems often by that very wish to become endowed with unsuspected powers of endurance. He knew how frail is the memory of loved ones. How we close our eyes and speak to them. How we long to hear their voices once again, and how those voices and those memories grow faint and faint until what was flesh and blood is no more than echo and shadow. In the end perhaps not even that.

He knew that those things we most desire to hold in our hearts are often taken from us while that which we would put away seems often by that very wish to become endowed with unsuspected powers of endurance.

Sorry. Don't need sorry. Not in this house. Sorry laid the hearth here. Sorry ways and sorry people and heavensent grief and heartache to make you pine for your death.

Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?

In love - it sounded like a sickness without any cure, and wasn't that just how it sometimes felt?

Memories, so sweet and bitter.. they had both nourished and devoured him for so many years. Until a time came when they began to fade, turning faint and blurred, only an ache to be quickly pushed away because it went to your heart. For what was the use of remembering all you had lost?

Odd that your heart didn't simply stop when it hurt so much.

What a plague love is!

Was she happy? Yes. And no. Because now the words were back, and with them the name that had spun gold around her heart for so long she hardly remembered how things had felt before him.

She was gone. And his heart was beating too loud and too fast. Into nothingness.

She'd fallen in love with the wrong boy. But when did love ever bother about that?

Loving someone merely meant pain. Nothing but pain.

I woke up and knew he was gone. Straightaway I knew he was gone. When you love somebody you know these things. David Almond, Skellig

And the pain was back again, and time, and longing too.

Can't you imagine? Haven't you told her about the place enough?" He tried the handle again, as if that could change anything. Meggie had covered the whole door with quotations. They looked to him now like magic spells written on the white paint in childish hand. Take me to another world! Go on! I know you can do it. My father has shown me how. Odd that your heart didn't simply stop when it hurt so much.

How could it be true that [he] was dead, and how would it feel to have him dead in her heart forever?