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Parting Quotes

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Parting Quotes

“When Someone Leaves They do not take your breath or still your heart, but piece by piece, you crumble into dust. The scent they wore no longer haunts the air, and something in you wilts, a quiet death. You watch the space where once they used to stand, the ghost of motion lingers in the dark. The rustle of their clothes is lost to time, a whisper swallowed whole by memory. You call for them in dreams, in restless nights, but only echoes answer in the void. And bit by bit, the world is drained of light— until there’s nothing left but hollow space, a silence vast enough to swallow stars. I wonder if that’s how it truly feels, to miss someone so bad it cuts like steel, a dagger twisting deep inside the gut, each thought of them a wound that will not heal.”

“I don't know how to speak anymore. And with whom? I never found a soulmate. No one was a dream. They left me with open dreams, with my central wound wide open, with my heart torn. I mourn myself; this is my right. And yet I look down on those who take no interest in me. My only desire has been. I will not say it. Even I, or especially I, betray myself. Like a nursing boy, my soul has been soothed. I don't know how to speak anymore. I can't speak anymore. I have taken apart, what they never gave me, which was all I had. And it is death again. It closes in on me, it is my only horizon. No one resembles my dream. I have felt love and they mistreated it, yes, me, I who never loved. The deepest love will disappear forever. What can we love that isn't a shadow? The sacred dreams of childhood have already died, and with them, those of nature, which loved me.”

“I thought that I'd write everything. But I think that whatever I feel at this point, Is beyond my ability to comprehend or describe. I would have to burn my skin alive right in front of your eyes And still I'd fear letting it out In the wild, to make you feel How much it hurts How much it breaks my heart, How brutally it's wounding my soul, How terribly you're causing my existence to dissolve ... How do I write what's engraved through your voice in my cells? What would I have to do to forget anything which you told me? Would I have to die?”

“I kept on holding the telephone receiver in my hand knowing that it was my call, and she would not put her receiver down first. There was pin-drop silence on both sides but still, I could hear her heartbeats as if it wasn't a telephone receiver but a stethoscope in my hand. After a brief moment spread over centuries,I heard a sound, the sound of something breaking. It was eerily similar to the sound when a star, being pulled by two equally powerful black holes and unable to decide which one to choose, falls apart, breaking into pieces like a glass I put the receiver back; a soft click sound indicated disconnection. The last means of communication between us had been disconnected as if the doctor had just pulled the cable from ventilator which had kept the terminally ill patient alive. I felt a deep lump in my throat, legs failing to carry my weight; I fell down on the nearby sofa like a log of wood”

“Last night before leaving for the UK, I was sitting alone on a bench at the banks of River Jhelum, enjoying the silvery trail of gumusservi. She was sitting on the ground, throwing small pebbles into the water and seeing them drown in the water. Both of us were silent but still conversing; our silence was speaking Suddenly she got up, and looked at me with a mixture of empathy and sadness. She knew that the pain I was feeling was real and that it was something that she couldn't take away. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I never meant to hurt you. I just didn't feel the same way." I nodded, understanding, and said. "But it doesn't change the fact that it still hurts. I thought we had something special, and now it feels like everything is slipping away." She took a step closer to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I know it's difficult," she said. "But you have to let go and move on. You deserve to find someone who loves you the way you deserve to be loved." I looked at her, my eyes filled with sadness. "I know you're right," I said. "But it's easier said than done." She gave me a small smile. "It won't be easy, but it will get better. And who knows, maybe someday you'll find someone who makes you feel like you've never let go of anything at all.”

“Dalek: I will talk to the Doctor. The Doctor: Oh will you? That's nice. Hello! Dalek: The Dalek strategem nears completion. The fleet is almost ready. You will not intervene. The Doctor: Oh really? Why's that, then? Dalek: We have your associate. You will obey or she will be exterminated. The Doctor: No. Dalek: Explain yourself. The Doctor: I said, "No." Dalek: What is the meaning of this negative? The Doctor: It means, "No." Dalek: But she will be destroyed! The Doctor: No! 'Cause this is what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna rescue her. I'm gonna save Rose Tyler from the middle of the Dalek fleet, and then I'm gonna save the Earth. And then—just to finish off—I'm gonna wipe every last stinking Dalek out of the sky! Dalek: But you have no weapons, no defenses, no plan. The Doctor: Yeah! And doesn't that scare you to death? Rose? Rose: Yes, Doctor? The Doctor: I'm coming to get you.”

“And I'll see you. We're not done seeing each other." "At the end of the summer, maybe, I can meet you somewhere before school," I say. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, that's a good idea." I smile and nod. She turns away, and I am wondering if she means any of it when I see her shoulders collapse. She is crying. "I'll see you then. And I'll write in the meantime," I say. "Yes," she says without turning around, her voice thick. "I'll write you, too." It is saying these things that keeps us from falling apart. And maybe by imagining these futures we can make them real, and maybe not, but either way we must imagine them. The light rushes out and floods in.”

“I knew that he was filled with grief when he finally kissed me one last time in one of the bathroom stalls at Fiumicino Airport and that, even if on the plane the drinks and the movie had distracted him, once alone in his room in New York, he too would be sad again, and I hated thinking of him sad, just as I knew he'd hate to see me sad in our bedroom, which had all too soon become my bedroom.”

“They embraced in parting. There were tears in the merchant’s eyes: “I do not like parting.” “Life consists of partings,” said Arseny. “But you can rejoice more fully in companionship when you remember that.” “But I would (the merchant Vladislav blew his nose) gather up all the good people I’ve met and never let them go.” “I think then they would quickly become mean,” smiled Ambrogio. (p. 238)”

“Be ahead of all parting, as though it already were behind you, like the winter that has just gone by. For among these winters there is one so endlessly winter that only by wintering through it will your heart survive. (Sei allem Abschied voran, als wäre er hinter dir, wie der Winter, der eben geht. Denn unter Wintern ist einer so endlos Winter, daß, überwinternd, dein Herz überhaupt übersteht.)”

“. . .she [Alma] and Asku at the train depot in La Crosse[, Wisconsin] before he had left for Brown [University]. “I hate goodbyes,” she’d said after kissing him on the cheek, tears sprang in her eyes and drained down her face. He swept his thumb over her wet cheekbone. “The Anishinaabe have no word for goodbye.” “What do you say in parting?” “You see Life as a straight line, but for us Life is a circle. After something or someone enters our circle they travel with us forever influencing us even if they are not physically present. To us there is no such thing as goodbye.” Once again water filled her eyes as Asku’s voice became an echo in her thoughts . . . .”

“...and yet, though desirous to be gone, she could not quit the mansion-house, or look an adieu to the cottage, with its black, dripping and comfortless veranda, or even notice through the misty glasses the last humble tenements of the village, without a saddened heart. Scenes had passed in Uppercross which made it precious. It stood the record of many sensations of pain, once severe, but now softened; and of some instances of relenting feeling, some breathings of friendship and reconciliation, which could never be looked for again, and which could never cease to be dear. She left it all behind her, all but the recollection that such things had been.”

“Some girls would consider this an insult. Not me, because if you had any idea how close we used to be, you would know how sincere she is. I guess you could say she’s still my friend, but a friend I keep at arm’s length.”