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Come Back Quotes

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Come Back Quotes

“She closed her eyes and prayed, prayed that he may still run after her and tell her to come back. He didn't and she kept walking. She began to cry. She felt lost. She felt confused. How could a love so pure be so corrupt? How could heaven turn into hell in a blink of an eye. Never one to pray, she couldn't help but look up at the night sky and ask God, is this it for me? Is it my curse to always have this emptiness in my soul?”

“Give me back my lips. I meant to give you a kiss but a kiss turned to a thousand, and a thousand to thousands, and now my lips have left with you. Give me back my hands. They only intended to caress you but they held tight and have forgotten even the very arms they belong to. Give me back my mind. Mind wasn’t even supposed to think of you but you forced yourself into dreams, and those dreams dreamed of your reality and now mind is mindless — less mine more yours. Give me back to myself. I miss my reflection and who I was before I met you. Before I eagerly and lovingly, stupidly and foolishly gave all of myself to you.”

“Gone are the summer days and my mind along with them. No longer will I indulge in hopes of getting you back. It is hope that makes these chains heavier and autumnal nights longer. I will merely serve as a memory to you: the lover that recited love poems. I must go now and I urge you not to look back.”

“Most sane human beings who have managed to attain and retain fame each uses it to dramatically increase their name’s chances of being remembered until Jesus comes back, since their heart cannot do what they consciously or unconsciously lust for, that is to say, for it to beat until Jesus returns.”

“So how long do I have before—what were their names? Carl and Rosa? Yeah, that’s them. How long do I have before they come back?” “I don’t know. Maybe...maybe an hour or so?” My hands felt incredibly small in his. That lopsided grin was back. “I doubt they’d be happy to find me here.” “Why?” His brows rose. “Maybe I’m wrong. They used to coming home to find some strange guy sitting on their couch?” I rolled my eyes. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Rider tugged on my hands, and I rose, letting him pull me down to the couch beside him. He leaned back, sliding one arm around my shoulders and tucking me against his side. “Just par for the course with you, huh?” I didn’t know what to do with my hands since he’d let go of them, so I folded them in my lap. “I’ve never had a...guy here.” Rider stiffened and then he twisted his neck so he was looking at me. Did I seriously admit that out loud? Squeezing my eyes shut, I sighed. “I’m just...going to shut up now.” He chuckled. “Don’t do that. I like listening to you talk.”

“Good parents know when "Go away" means "Hug me." They barge through the door, through the noise, through the pain, and say, "I know you're hurting. I want to help." They keep coming back. Even when they're being pushed away. Good parents also miss big moments, huge moments, with their kids. They're staring at their phone or wrapped up in their jobs or just ignorant about emotional intelligence. Sometimes they're scared to help because their own hurt is a lump in their float. And they end up drowning in guilt for not being superhuman. What's a good parent? It's just so hard to know. It's especially hard that day in Roseville, New Jersey. But maybe, just maybe, we should root for this mom to be braver than she normally is.”

“Persevere like a seed; even when people try to bury you, flourish.”

“Passionate people say to their obstacles “I may fall, I may lose everything I have, but if I still get me, you are still in trouble because am coming back and when I come back, you are doomed”. Passion is a serious secret that sailed people to the top!”

“He raises his hand to my face again and I allow the touch. His fingers slide along my jawline and the warmth of his caresses radiates past my skin and into my bloodstream. Pleasing goose bumps rise on my neck. “Do you think you’ll come back sometime?” he asks. “And let me help you with your car?” My ears ring with the staccato thrum, thrum, thrum of my heart. Holy crap, I can’t believe this is happening to me. “I’ll make it work. I swear.” The words tumble out of my mouth without thought. That’s not true. Actually, they tumble out with a lot of thought of how my parents won’t approve, of how my brothers will kill Isaiah, then possibly kill me. But in this moment, I don’t care what any of them think.”

“Come back to me. Where have you gone? And why so long? I miss the star below your lip, the constellation on your chest. I miss your ways, how you net butter-flying words and release them for others to enjoy. I miss your tenderness, the sweetness of your breath and the song of your voice. I miss how you worship me. Come back to me once more. Why did you go? And whatever for? The heavens plotted against us. The clouds came and pissed on our lives. The smell of charged particles still lingers in the air. What will become of you and I? Come back to us.”

“There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back, but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain and eat when I can and sleep when I can, which is rare and not often, so if you’d see me now on these streets where I once imagined walking with you you’d have a hard time recognising me. I takes a lot to run away.”