Quotessence
Home / Topics / Heartbreak Quotes

Heartbreak Quotes

Browse 3258 quotes about Heartbreak.

Related topics

Heartbreak Quotes

“He kneels bide her, does the things we instinctively do: lowers an ear to her lips; checks her wrist for a pulse. But it only confirms what he already knows. He brings her still-warm hand to his cheek and weeps. Because they have not had long enough. Because he is not ready for their shared life to be at it's end. He sits with her as the light fades, as the chill starts to creep in through the open door, as her cooling body sets in place. He sits with her through the night, not ready to move on to the next phase he knows must come. One of phone calls and condolences. And her absence. For now, for just a little while longer, it will be just the two of them.”

“He kneels beside her, does the things we instinctively do: lowers an ear to her lips; checks her wrist for a pulse. But it only confirms what he already knows. He brings her still-warm hand to his cheek and weeps. Because they have not had long enough. Because he is not ready for their shared life to be at its end. He sits with her as the light fades, as the chill starts to creep in through the open door, as her cooling body sets in place. He sits with her through the night, not ready to move on to the next phase he knows must come. One of phone calls and condolences. And her absence. For now, for just a little while longer, it will be just the two of them.”

“Are you a high-quality woman? Do you possess exceptional character as a woman? Sustaining real love is impossible in an environment where manipulation prevails. True love cannot be attained when dishonesty is present. Genuine love is not fleeting; it leaves a lasting impression. Authentic love is understated yet unwavering, and when betrayed, it departs with elegance. This is how a woman of high caliber responds to betrayal.”

“To the beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer, and in part the author, of all that is best in my writings—the friend and wife whose exalted sense of truth and right was my strongest incitement, and whose approbation was my chief reward—I dedicate this volume. Like all that I was written for many years, it belongs as much to her as to me; but the work as it stands has had, in a very insufficient degree, the inestimable advantage of her revision; some of the most important portions having been reserved for a more careful re-examination, which they are now never destined to receive. Were I but capable of interpreting to the world one half the great thoughts and noble feelings which are buried in her grave, I should be the medium of a greater benefit to it, than is ever likely to arise from anything that I can write, unprompted and unassisted by her all but unrivaled wisdom.”

“I just don't get it. Weirdly, I am mostly over it, despite what this looks like.' Skye waved a hand in front of her face. 'It's just, these past 24 hours have been a head fuck. I knew they were together, but now they're engaged.' Skye threw up her arms. 'We were together for five years. She asked me to marry her after two, and things were great then, truly.' Skye's eyes misted over for a moment. Then she shook herself. 'We had a big wedding - at the same hotel would you believe? - and when I said my vows, I meant them. For better, for worse. In sickness and in health. I don't recall there being a vow that said, "until the next young thing comes along, and I get a better offer.' She slumped forward and rested her forehead on her fore-arm.”

“In any story the two hardest things to be are a widow or an orphan. Those are the bad cards to draw from the deck marked "life." Because those are the two moments the people you love the most die. It's heart break. Heart shatter. Heart starve. It's so much loss that it's easier if you just died and started the game over. But you can't. You have to wander. Part of it is losing your tribe and being homeless. Part of it is being alone in the dark. I won't lie to you. The deck marked "life" is stacked full of bum cards.”

“Leaches Ten Tall by Stewart Stafford Don't play this game with me, Predatory whelk of tide pools, Taint me as Rigoletto to a bawd, Floundering florist to my bee. Devotion twisted to a changeling, Now a jealous twin in the shadows, From dancing partner to judge; Delicate consensus to harshest critic. Slice of cold shoulder sandwich, Sup the chalice of icy comfort, Not snowfall on Christmas morn, Oaken boards trodden in a manger. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“When it’s someone you know, when you can feel the span of their loss, it’s instinctive to think it costs that much to bring them back. What you did with ____ was put a part of yourself into reanimating him. In other circumstances, you could have reversed it, untethered yourself, but he took all of it with him when he was destroyed.” There was a pause. “You’ll recover, but it’ll leave a scar. You just have to stay grounded until your mind learns not to go there. Lucky for you, animancy should help with that.” “Did this ever happen to you?” He was silent for a minute. “Something similar once, but it was a long time ago.”

“When my relationship ended with Gabriel all those years ago, I was devastated for a while, and then I did what every self-respecting woman would do: I shut the door on it, on him. I taught myself to think of Gabriel as someone who belonged to my teenage years, a first crush, little more to me than my brief fixation with the singer Johnnie Ray. Seeing Gabriel again, like this, in the place where we once meant so much to each other, could she,e me to my core if I let it.”

“With Wang Qiyao’s flowery apron around his waist and a pair of protective sleeves over his shirt, he brought the meal to Wang Qiyao’s bedside, his hair mussed up, his forehead oily and perspiring, his eyes aglow with excitement. Tears rolled down her cheeks and into her bowl as she ate. Kang Mingxun watched helplessly on one side, looking very much like a waiter on duty. Soon he too became teary. They could no longer put it off: a decision had to be made.”

“»Ker te ljubim dovolj, si zate želim srečo. Če torej misliš, da ti bo najin razhod pomagal pri tem, ga sprejmem. Ne morem ga razumeti, a te ne bom več skušal prepričati v nasprotno. In ko boš prenehala bežati pred sabo in zakrpala rane, ki so te prisilile, da nama pomahaš v slovo, boš verjetno postala oseba, kakršna si želiš biti. In če te bo to osrečilo, bom srečen zate.«”

“You know,” I said, pulling my sleeves over my hands, “I don’t think people should talk every day unless they mean it.” She looked at me. “What do you mean by ‘mean it’?” “I mean… unless they plan to stay. To actually be there. Because otherwise, you’re just giving someone a habit. A dependency. And when you leave, it’s not just absence. It’s withdrawal.” She blinked, and said, “You’re not mad at them. You’re mad you let it feel like forever.” I laughed softly. “Exactly.”

“I don't know how to walk away from love. Even the kind that hurts. Even the kind that barely sees me. If someone loves me, even a little, I will turn it into a reason to stay. I will hold on too tightly. I will soften every wound. I will rewrite every red flag as a test of my patience. Because I've always believed that love was the prize. That being loved, even poorly, was still something sacred. So I settle. Not because I don't know better, but because I still think love will save me. And maybe that's the saddest part. Not the settling, but the fact that I keep calling it home.”

“The saddest thing about me? It's not that I've been hurt. It's not even that people left. It's that if someone who broke me texted me tomorrow asking for help I'd reply. I'd care. I'd show up. Even if they disappeared. Even if they didn't check if I made it out alive. Even if they chose silence when I needed saving. I'd still answer. Not because they deserve it. But because that's just who I am. And sometimes, being that person feels like the loneliest thing in the world.”

“I think the people who've felt the most unwanted are the ones who try the hardest to make others feel wanted. they know what silence feels like. what being misunderstood feels like. what it feels like to be chosen last. so when they love, they don’t do it halfway. they love like it’s the only thing holding the world together. they remember birthdays, favorite songs, the way your voice changes when you’re trying not to cry. they show up. every time. and even though they’ve been hurt more than they can explain, they still believe love is worth giving. even if it isn’t always returned.”