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Lost Love Quotes

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Lost Love Quotes

“Nineteen years since that day. Nineteen whole years! And I’m still looking for you. I will never stop looking for you. Often you appear when I expect it least. Earlier today I was trapped in some pointless dark thought or other, my body clenched like a metal fist. Then suddenly you were there: a bright autumn leaf cartwheeling over a dull pewter lawn. I uncurled and smelled life, felt dew on my feet, saw shades of green. I tried to grab hold of you, that vivid leaf, cavorting and wriggling and giggling. I tried to take your hand, look straight at you, but like an optical black spot you slid silently sideways, just out of reach. I will never stop looking for you.”

“For the thousandth time he wished he’d just met her. That they were but two strangers traveling together, that such lovely, filthy thoughts did not break him in two, but were only a pleasant pastime as he slowly fell under the spell of her aloof beauty and her hidden intensity. … But no, they’d met long ago, in the furthest years of his childhood. Their chances had come and gone. All they had ahead of them were a tedious road and a final good-bye.”

“I had meant to take her to my favorite pastry shop after dinner. I'd known happiness there once, or maybe not happiness, but the vision of it. I wanted to see whether the place had changed at all, or whether I had changed, or whether, just by sitting with her I could make up for old loves I'd gotten so close to but had never been bold enough to seize. Always got so very close, and always turned my back when the time came. Manfred and I had dessert here so many times, especially after the movies, and before Manfred, Maud and I, because it was so hot on summer nights that we'd stop to drink fizzy lemonades here, night after night, happy to be together drinking nothing stronger. And Chloe, of course, on those cold afternoons on Rivington Street so many years ago. My life, my real life, had not even happened yet, and all of this was rehearsal still. Tonight, I thought, relishing Joyce's words and feeling exquisitely sorry for myself, the time has come for me to set out on my journey westward. Then I thought of Saint Augustine's words: "Sero te amavi! Late have I loved you!”

“Cesar knew better. He did. And love. Love just makes a man weak. A woman, a child—doesn’t matter what face the love has, love makes you stupid, it takes you out of your character, twists you, folds you, it drags you out into deep waters and drowns you. Love has you thinking about all the things you buried. All the things you left behind. It has you thinking about your mother, who was a nurse once, wearing scrubs and coming home late, before all the fighting, before the vodka, before the heroin, before Cesar found her in the bathtub sleeping in her own blood. Love has you crying on the couch while you’re feeding your baby. Not even a month old and you’re leaving him. Not because you want to, but because of love. Because you love him and you know he’s better off with somebody else. Because it’s the right thing to do. But righteousness doesn’t take the edge of the sting. Because it hurts. Because he’s looking up at you. His eyes wide in awe like you’re God herself. Your son cannot understand a word that you’re saying. He doesn’t understand that you’re saying goodbye.”

“നിന്നെ പ്രണയിക്കാൻ ഞാൻ നിശബ്ദത തിരഞ്ഞെടുക്കുന്നു ; കാരണം നിശബ്ദതയിൽ നിൻറെ നിഷേധം കേൾക്കില്ല. നിന്നെ പ്രണയിക്കാൻ ഞാൻ ഏകാന്തത തിരഞ്ഞെടുക്കുന്നു; കാരണം ഏകാന്തതയിൽ ഞാൻ അല്ലാതെ നിനക്ക് മറ്റൊരു ഉടയോൻ ഇല്ല. നിന്നെ ആരാധിക്കാൻ ഞാൻ ദൂരം തിരഞ്ഞെടുക്കുന്നു; കാരണം ദൂരം എൻറെ വേദനയെ ദൂരീകരിക്കുന്നു. നിന്നെ ചുംബിക്കാൻ ഞാൻ കാറ്റിനെ തിരഞ്ഞെടുക്കുന്നു; കാരണം കാറ്റ് എൻറെ ചുണ്ടുകളെക്കാൾ ലോലം ആകുന്നു. നിന്നെ പുണരാൻ ഞാൻ സ്വപ്നത്തെ തിരഞ്ഞെടുക്കുന്നു; കാരണം എൻറെ സ്വപ്നങ്ങളിൽ നീ അവസാനിക്കുന്നതേയില്ല.”

“I wonder if there will be a morning when you'll wake up missing me. That some incident in your life, would have finally taught you the value of my worth. And you will feel a surge of longing, when you remember how I was good to you. When this day comes I hope you will look for me. I hope you will look with the kind of conviction I'd always hoped for, but never had from you. Because I want to be found. And I hope it will be you - who finds me.”

“You told me mornings were the best time to break your own heart. So here I am, smoking your brand of cigarettes for the scent. I wonder if you still sing Beatles songs as you make coffee. You said your mother used to sing them to you when you couldn’t sleep, nineteen years before we met, twenty before you moved your clothes out of our closet while I was at work. By the way, I hate you for leaving all the photographs on the fridge. Taking them down felt like peeling off new scabs, like slapping a sunburn. I spent so many nights carving your body into pillows, I can promise you nothing feels like sleeping with your arm around me and your breath in my ear. Still, it’s comforting to know we sleep under the same moon, even if she’s so much older when she gets to me. I like to imagine she’s seen you sleeping and wants me to know you’re doing well.”