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Sad Ending Quotes

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Sad Ending Quotes

“When lunchtime comes, as always, I run to Library 1.2. I run my fingers along the edges of the books and follow the path to the romance section, looking for the seventeenth book in the ninth row of the third shelf. This is my routine and I adore every moment of it. One of the pages of the book is different from the rest; it was glued in to replace the original page, which had been torn out. On the patched page, I find my favorite passage from the story. I sit on the floor and read. “How’s the patient?” he asked Derby. “Dead to the world.” “But not actually dead.” “No.” “How nice—to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.” I close the book and think of my best friend. How I wish he were here to see everything we achieved together. So he could see how our mission changed the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. I wanted to see the look of joy in his eyes as we admired together the demolition of the Wall. Of all the wishes, I wanted to talk to him about rhymes and metrics, sonnets and quatrains, about all the things I’ve been learning at school. Sometimes, the longing hits so hard that I feel as if part of me died with him. As if part of my soul went with Mário, because I’ve never felt complete, whole, again. I feel broken, old scrap. I know Mário wanted to bring change to Redentor, but there are times when I feel it wasn’t worth it. I know it’s selfish, but I would trade all this sea of smiles on strangers’ faces to have a life by my friend’s side. I know he sacrificed himself for the good of all, but I allow myself to be a little selfish. Just a little. Two of the few things I asked for after my participation in the revolution were Firstborn's box and Mário’s chip. At first, many came to me, trying to convince me to engage in political struggle, to be a poster boy, but my mother didn’t allow it. He’s going to school, she said. His mission is over. Now, he’s going to be a child. I like that my mother protects me from the adult world. And all I want is to be a normal boy and live my days peacefully. I no longer want to be involved in shootouts, explosions, and revolutions, of that I’m sure. But she’s wrong about one thing: my mission is not over yet. It all began with Mário by my side, and it will only end with him by my side again. Every night, before sleeping, I fiddle and tinker with the insides of that computer, just waiting to see that red light turn on and the sides of the lenses spin in processing. So far, all I’ve gotten are some light shocks. Even old Jeremias has already said the chip is completely broken, beyond repair. I refuse to give up. – Today’s the day – I say to myself as I unscrew the computer. I replace the old wiring with new ones, clean the processor and run the chip through an advanced recovery system. I work for two hours hunched over the table. I plug the machine in and press the button. Nothing. Zero. Absolutely nothing. I sigh. I don’t let discouragement or despair take hold of me. Tomorrow, I will continue. And if tomorrow the red light doesn’t turn on, I’ll try the day after tomorrow. And after that, and after that, and after that. I will work until there’s no more tomorrow. “Everything works out in the end. If it’s not right, it’s because it’s not the end yet.” It was a robot who liked poetry who taught me: That's how life works.”

“In 1990 I did a story with Helena Christensen about a woman who lives in a trailer in the middle of the desert and finds a little crushed UFO with a martian who has survived the crash. She takes him home, and they fall in love. Later he has to meet with his fellow martians who have arrived to rescue him. It's a sad ending. This was my first truly narrative story and apparently the first narrative story in fashion photography.”

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”

“Such lonely, lost things you find on your way. It would be easier, if you were the only one lost. But lost children always find each other, in the dark, in the cold. It is as though they are magnetized and can only attract their like. How I would like to lead you to brave, stalwart friends who would protect you and play games with dice and teach you delightful songs that have no sad endings. If you would only leave cages locked and turn away from unloved Wyverns, you could stay Heartless.”

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.”