125 Quotes Tagged: heartbreak

He never loved you, but he loved
the reflection of the man he saw in your
eyes.
But listen to me, my friend.
You never loved him either.
You just loved being the queen.
You loved being the sun.
You loved being the woman behind a
great man.
You never loved him.
You loved having something to give.
Someone to fix. Someone to please.
You see, in love, you don't get what you
want.
You get what you think you get.

Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met — or never parted — we had ne'er been broken-hearted

The day breaks not: it is my heart.

You broke me bodily.
The heart ain't the half of it,
And I'll never learn to laugh at it
In my good natured way.
In fact, I'm laughing less in general,
But I learned a lot at my own funeral.
And I knew you'd be the death of me,
So I guess that's the price I pay.

How does your patient, doctor?

Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.

Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.

Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.

As an amputated hand cannot be disowned because it is experiencing a futurity, of which the victim is its forebear, so Robin was an amputation that Nora could not renounce.

Ah, if everyone was as sensitive as you! There's no girl who hasn't gone through that. And it's all so unimportant!

Oh, I wouldn't mind, Hazel Grace. It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.

"You are going, Jane?"

"I am going, sir."

"You are leaving me?"

"Yes."

"You will not come? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?"

What unutterable pathos was in his voice! How hard was it to reiterate firmly, "I am going!"

"Jane!"

"Mr. Rochester."

"Withdraw then, I consent; but remember, you leave me here in anguish. Go up to your own room, think over all I have said, and, Jane, cast a glance on my sufferings; think of me."

He turned away, he threw himself on his face on the sofa. "Oh, Jane! my hope, my love, my life!" broke in anguish from his lips. Then came a deep, strong sob.

Being in love with somebody that you only used to know is like falling in love with a book (which sounds like a dumb example but people really do fall in love with them). The point is: You can love it all you want, but it’s a story that runs parallel to yours. At the end of the day it’s static. It’s memory. It’s a sentence and you can’t change it. It ends how it ends. It says what it says.

you're an expert at sorry and keeping the lines blurry

No reflection was to be allowed now, not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. Not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future. The first was a page so heavenly sweet, so deadly sad, that to read one line of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy. The last was an awful blank, something like then world when the deluge was gone by.

The end of a relationship is the end of a home.

If you’re really listening, if you’re awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; its purpose is to burst open again and again so it can hold evermore wonders. -Andrew Harvey

She can't be unhappy,' you said,
'The smiles are like stars in her eyes,
And her laugh is thistledown
Around her low replies.'
'Is she unhappy?' you said–
But who has ever known
Another's heartbreak–
All he can know is how own;
And she seems hushed to me,
As hushed as though
Her heart were a hunter's fire
Smothered in snow.