I celebrate myself, and sing myself.
Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.
There are hurts so deep that one cannot reach them or heal them with words.
You get used to sadness, growing up in the mountains, I guess.
Today is the first and last day of forever.
Sadness is very close to hate.
Sometimes to realize you were well, someone must come along and hurt you.
Each of us has his own rhythm of suffering.
Sometimes you have to forget what's gone, appreciate what still remains, and look forward to what's coming next.
The instruments of darkness tell us truths.
Half of the secular unrest and dismal, profane sadness of modern society comes from the vain ideas that every man is bound to be a critic for life.
Suffering, if it does not diminish love, will transport us to the furthest shore.
If we are demoralized, sad and only complain, we’ll not solve our problems. If we only pray for a solution, we’ll not solve our problems. We need to face them, to deal with them without violence, but with confidence - and never give up. If you adopt a non-violent approach, but are also hesitant within, you’ll not succeed. You have to have confidence and keep up your efforts - in other words, never give up.
The saddest summary of a life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have.
Offend her, and she knows not to forgive; Oblige her, and she'll hate you while you live.
It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education.
I would rather live and love where death is king than have eternal life where love is not.
If you love something let it go free. If it doesn't come back, you never had it. If it comes back, love it forever.
The whole world can become the enemy when you lose what you love.
I wanted to die, then. I wanted to destroy the body I was trapped in, become what she was, no matter what it took. No matter how much mutilation or pain. But he looked away, at me. He pulled my face down and pressed my lips against his like he was almost trying to suffocate us both.
They say the blues is sad, but when B.B. sings 'I got a sweet little angel, I love the way she spreads her wings,' that don't sound too sad to me!
Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter.
We could learn to stop when the sun goes down and when the sun comes up. We could learn to listen to the wind; we could learn to notice that it's raining or snowing or hailing or calm. We could reconnect with the weather that is ourselves, and we could realize that it's sad. The sadder it is, and the vaster it is, the more our heart opens. We can stop thinking that good practice is when it's smooth and calm, and bad practice is when it's rough and dark. If we can hold it all in our hearts, then we can make a proper cup of tea.
beginnings are usually scary, and endings are usually sad, but its everything in between that makes it all worth living.
To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.
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