Those who don't know how to weep with their whole heart, don't know how to laugh either.
When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.
Each man kills the thing he loves.
Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.
She'd cried over a broken heart before. She knew what that felt like, and it didn't feel like this. Her heart felt not so much broken as just ... empty. It felt like she was an outline empty in the middle. The outline cried senselessly for the absent middle. The past cried for the present that was nothing.
No," Wednesday agreed. "You have tortured with silence. You let her grieve for a soul she did not lose, mourn a heart that should not have broken, and berate herself for betraying the man she loves...with the man she loves. It can't be 'true' love without the truth, Rumbold.
Do we know our poor people? Do we know the poor in our house, in our family? Perhaps they are not hungry for a piece of bread. Perhaps our children, husband, wife, are not hungry, or naked, or dispossessed, but are you sure there is no one there who feels unwanted, deprived of affection?
When you break the heart of the philosopher, you must apply great force and cunning strategy, but when the deed is completed, the heart lies in great stony ruin at your feet. If you succeed in breaking it, the job is done once and for all. It will not be repaired.
Doctoring her seemed to her as absurd as putting together the pieces of a broken vase. Her heart was broken. Why would they try to cure her with pills and powders?
Throughout my lifetime I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost barely enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent.
You’re going to leave me, aren’t you? … You’ve had enough of me, haven’t you? You’re probably so tired of all this crying and all these moods, and I’ve got to tell you, so am I. So am I. Sometimes it seems like my mind has a mind of its own, like I just get hysterical, like it’s something I can’t control at all. And I don’t know what to do, and I feel so sorry for you because you don’t know what to do either. And I’m sure you’re going to leave me now.
Judgement comes from experience, and great judgement comes from bad experience.
What happens when people open their hearts?"... "They get better.
I don't think a female running a house is a problem, a broken family. It's perceived as one because of the notion that a head is a man.
We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it.
Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
It's easy to be led astray when you're so broken. People take advantage of you.
Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future.
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
People genuinely happy in their choices seem less often tempted to force them on other people than those who feel martyred and broken by their lives.
Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.
If we are to judge of love by its consequences, it more nearly resembles hatred than friendship.
If we judge love by most of its effects, it resembles rather hatred than affection.
The intellect is always fooled by the heart.
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