Quotes About Heartache

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it, Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee, Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it, Not to partake thy passion, my humility.

Throughout the ordeal, I learned that getting mad was easier than being sad. Anger was something I could control. I could settle into an easy rhythm of blame and hate. Focus my energy on something than the ache in my heart.

She wonders what fool ever said that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all - she has never disagreed with something so much.

A big mistake. The kind of mistake that brews resentment and dangerous fissures. The kind of mistake that makes your heart ache. The kind of mistake that makes you long for another choice, the past, someone else.

But it's not that simple or clear-cut—and I wonder if it ever is when it comes to matters of the heart.

The feeling of leaving, even when you don't want to. The feeling that sometimes things just can't be fixed.

O inferno é a ausência das pessoas de quem temos saudade.

The path to love wasn't a smooth road. Love would show up while you were busy with another love, leaving you to decide.

beauty is the currency of betrayal!

Falling in love is easy. Being in love sucks.

I know that love is no cure, but rather the disease itself.

When one follows the path with heart, one often bleeds. (But what is the alternative—a cauterized core?)

Ä°nsan seviyorsa iki ÅŸeyi asla yapmaz. Aldatmaz ve aÄŸlatmaz. Çünkü aldatmak insan onuruna; aÄŸlatmak ise insan yüreÄŸine yap?lm?? en çirkin sald?r?d?r.

Time. Aching like a bruise, pounding like a heart.

No easy thing, letting go. The pain I carried in my heart was constant and at times served as a comfort and a touchstone

Letting go is a very hard thing," he said. "Grief and guilt, even loneliness, can become a comfort. A touchstone. The road behind us, littered as it is with mistakes and heartache, can often be more appealing than the open road in front of us.

I've heard people say that the hardest thing in the world is to live with someone you don't love. But I've always thought it would be far more difficult to live with someone who doesn't love you.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,'Aubrey. I will avenge this scar and every scar you have put into my heart. -Risika(In The Forest Of The Night)

O love! love! love! Is there any sorrow in life like loving?

To love is simple but difficult

There's nothing new about this story of ours, such things happen. Love misses its mark, arrives too early or too late. Nobody dies, except in novels.

Induratize (v.) To harden the heart. Among the inevitabilities of old age are that the heart is hardened twice; first figuratively, through experience and loss, and then literally, in the form of atherosclerosis.

Do I know that? How the hell can I possibly know that? Only a few hours earlier, Chris, my beloved husband of twenty years, jumped to his death off the roof of a parking garage a mile from our home. Cops came to the house in a pair to tell me, just like in the movies. Ding-dong, your husband's dead. Your life is over. Except it's not.

Devon had been so lonely, so terribly lonely, for so long. The kind of lonely that sears, that burrows its way deep inside a heart and throbs. Like a gnawing hunger.