You don't bring me flowers.
You don't sing me love songs.
You hardly talk to me anymore.
When you come through the door
At the end of the day.

They never opened the door which leads to the soul.

When you're screwing up and nobody says anything to you anymore, that means they've given up on you.

I don't feel you anymore.
You darken my door.
Whatever you're looking for.
Hey don't come around here no more.

When you have nobody you can make a cup of tea for, when nobody needs you, that's when I think life is over.

She was sick of conversations with people passing through. Nothing you said to each other mattered a damn because you'd never see them again.

When you’re screwing up and nobody says anything to you anymore, that means they’ve given up on you.

No one can really help you. No one can open your doors. You locked them up, and only you can open them. When you open any door, beyond it you find others standing there who had passed you long ago, but now, unable to proceed, they are there waiting; others are there waiting for you. Then you come, and, opening a door, those waiting disciples perhaps may pass on; thus on and on. What a privilege this, to reflect that we may perhaps be able to help those who seemed greater than ourselves! (Vol. I, Letter 1)

The door has closed for evermore,
If indeed there ever was a door.

On ne fait non plus de cas de pauvres que de couillons: on les laisse à la porte; jamais n'entrent.

But no one came. Because no one ever does.

We never know we go, — when we are going
We jest and shut the door;
Fate following behind us bolts it,
And we accost no more.

Il n'est rien d'inutile aux personnes de sens.

Loin de parler quand on me paie, et de me taire quand on me donne rien.