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Lost Love Quotes

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Lost Love Quotes

“I’ve told a journal how I feel about you, Out of fear of how you’d react In the event of telling you. Through past experiences, the happiest Times I’ve had occurred when I kept them To myself. I’ve told this journal everything about you & We’ve traveled page after page In endless vacation. How we’ve experienced things we both thought We’d never experience. How the food you normally scrunch your nose up at Turned out to be some of the best things you ever tasted & how badly I wanted to be laid out on that plate. To be the reason you sit back and undo the top Button on your jeans. The reason you tell your friends to come visit, Your return trip back. I’ve told a journal how I feel about you, Out of fear of how you’d react. Once I tell you, the you that I’ve come To know and love will no longer be existent & all I’ll have is another journal entry”

“I was not able to sleep that night. To be honest, I didn’t even try. I stood in front of my living room window, staring out at the bright lights of New York City. I don’t know how long I stood there; in fact, I didn’t see the millions of multicolored lights or the never-ending streams of headlights and taillights on the busy streets below. Instead, I saw, in my mind’s eye, the crowded high school classrooms and halls where my friends and I had shared triumphs and tragedies, where the ghosts of our past still reside. Images flickered in my mind. I saw the faces of teachers and fellow students I hadn’t seen in years. I heard snatches of songs I had rehearsed in third period chorus. I saw the library where I had spent long hours studying after school. Most of all, I saw Marty. Marty as a shy sophomore, auditioning for Mrs. Quincy, the school choir director. Marty singing her first solo at the 1981 Christmas concert. Marty at the 1982 Homecoming Dance, looking radiant after being selected as Junior Princess. Marty sitting alone in the chorus practice room on the last day of our senior year. I stared long and hard at those sepia-colored memories. And as my mind carried me back to the place I had sworn I’d never return to, I remembered.”

“Several weeks have passed since the incident at Lord Frisberts Hat Shop, and I’m saddened to say, I’ve yet to leave this hole. Rents due, and I could hear old Finby barking from down below, but my pockets run about as dry as the shavings on a chicken coop. On a good day, I’d gather some lint off my trousers, but not today. No, sir, not today.”

“With a little sadness, I now saw I'd come to dread and resent books, every last one. It was a loss. Opening a book had always been like opening a window into a new and mysterious world. When I was a child my books were my best friends. ... Books had been the most lasting, profound relationship in my life. I'd long bought and sold a few books for extra money. But once I'd started selling them out of desperation, not luck or love, I'd come to wordlessly feel like even my love of books--like everything else I'd loved--had turned on me and become ugly.”

“Through pity, then, I can't resist delivering a song of bliss when witnessing the painful trace that love leaves in a young girl's face. I try to teach them, through my song, love of that kind will not last long, because, just as my song relents, love rarely stays when it descends on children's hearts, but meets its death the way that warmth fades on our breath.”

“I see you staring at him,' Nicasia says, sitting down beside me. Tonight she wears a gown of gold lacework. Her dark tourmaline hair is pulled up with two golden combs the shape of a shark jaw, complete with golden teeth. 'Perhaps I am looking only at the trinkets and gold with which your mother thinks she can buy the Court's favour,' I say.' She picks up one of the violets from my plate and places it delicately on her tongue. 'I lost Cardan's love for Locke's easy words and easier kisses, sugared like these flowers,' she says. 'Your sister lost your love to get Locke's, didn't she? But we all know what you lost.' 'Locke?' I laugh. 'Good riddance.' Her brows knit together. 'Surely it's not the High King himself you were gazing at.' 'Surely not,' I echo, but I don't meet her eyes.”

“Her name was Andromache. And she was... so beautiful. And kind. And I loved her... so much.' Human. Andromache had been human. My eyes burned. 'But she was human. And a queen- who needed to continue her royal line, especially during such a tumultuous time. So I left- went home after the last battle. And when I realised what a mistake it was, that I didn't care if I only had sixty more years with her... The wall went up that day.' A small sob came out of her. 'And I could not... I was not allowed or able to cross it. I tried. For three years, I tried over and over. And by the time I managed to find a hole to cross... She had married. A man. And had an infant daughter- with another on the way. I didn't set foot inside her castle. Didn't even try to see her. I just turned around and went home.' 'I'm so sorry,' I breathed, my voice breaking. 'She bore five children. And died an old woman, safe in her bed. And I saw her spirit again- in that golden queen. Her descendent.”

“আমাকে খোঁজো না তুমি বহুদিন-কতদিন আমিও তোমাকে খুঁজি নাকো;- এক নক্ষত্রের নিচে তবু-একই আলোপৃথিবীর পারে আমরা দুজনে আছি; পৃথিবীর পুরনো পথের রেখা হয়ে যায় ক্ষয়, প্রেম ধীরে মুছে যায়, নক্ষত্রেরও একদিন মরে যেতে হয়, হয় নাকি?’- বলে সে তাকাল তার সঙ্গিনীর দিকে; আজ এই মাঠ সূর্য সহধর্মী অঘ্রাণ কার্তিকে প্রাণ তার ভরে গেছে।”

“Remember me a little while, Pause in the orchard where we often walked, When days were longer and the world was ours. Say, "Cara, please!" one last time, and smile. From beneath the apple tree, Glance up to where I once looked down at you. Wear, just once more, The look that said I was your love, And you were mine until my end. I knew it all the while. Miss me, but not for long. I was your joy, Don't let me be your woe, So remember me, and smile. Then let me go.”

“So many feelings misplaced, so many pieces lost. You have been misled into a broken maze with your own well. Excuses like the walls were everything you needed, and stupidity because you knew it was a dead end. Write about roads interwining and being off track you are sugarcoating a road accident by a drunk man. Spend time, energy, and sanity like it was worth it, get lost and bleed emotions like it's the price you pay to get out You disappointed your own self and it's hard to forget, your brain unattended and your heart took the hit, got knocked out and woke up on the wrong side of the bed, on the Wrong side of my head. Now you are left with a scar and a mind full of words said, a voice i can't forget and a smile that hurts me still.”