Quotes about bittersweet

Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.

Time makes fools of us all. Our only comfort is that greater shall come after us.

I can tell you this: there will be other girls, other disasters. And there will be nights to come, his life mostly behind him, when he will long to hurt like that again.

Had I only known my lettersWould be of such importanceI’d empty myself on paperEvery single morning’And it was for such reason,as she read his little stanza,that she decided to stamponefinalletter:‘Every single morningI’d empty myself on paperYou were my greater importanceThat’s why I wrote you letters.

Saving you was worth losing what we might've had.

Just give me a bit, let me pretend you're still alive," Andrei said hoarsely. "Let me pretend that I don't have to give you up.""Andrei," Warm, calloused hands cupped Anrei's face. "Look at me. I'm real. I'm still with you. A part of me will always be with you. Even after I go through that doorway.

I must indeed abide the Doom of Men whether I will or nill: the loss and the silence. But I say to you, King of the Numenoreans, not till now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Elves say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.

The two of us are lIke sunshine and the rain. Together... We are the wellspring of all life. But between us, there will will bloom no flowers. We shall bear no fruit. For us, all of time... Shall be evergreen."And that's fine. I will be here always. To you... I give eternity."Hotaka

She clasped his hands and pressed her lips to them. 'I want you to be proud of me,' he repeated. She dropped his hands, feeling defeated.

It was as if all of the happiness, all of the magic of this blissful hour had flowed together into these stirring, bittersweet tones and flowed away, becoming temporal and transitory once more.

Beautiful surroundings, the society of learned men, the charm of noble women, the graces of art, could not make up for the loss of those light-hearted mornings of the desert, for that wind that made one a boy again. He had noticed that this peculiar quality in the air of new countries vanished after they were tamed by man and made to bear harvests. Parts of Texas and Kansas that he had first known as open range had since been made into rich farming districts, and the air had quite lost that ligh

You expect certain things to always be there, like the bakery on the corner, or the boy you grew up with. But when the very ground can eat you alive without warning, what's to say the ocean won't dry up? Or the stars won't suddenly shut off? Nothing is forever.

You cannot drink the nectar of love without bleeding for its thorns.

It was hard to understand a little and then walk away.

...I live with regrets - the bittersweet loss of innocence - the red track of the moon upon the lake - the inability to return and do it again...

I miss the thrill of your self-destructive heart that melts in the sun like chocolate, bittersweet and incandescent.

If there is an afterlife, I want my soul intact. And then maybe I'll see you there."I smiled, somehow calm now that I was facing something inevitable. I was getting the good-bye I'd always wanted. - Nikki

We are nothing but shadows Fading away Trying to hold on to This bittersweet life That we call our own...

In my humble opinion, forever is a bitter brew." - Max; Before Ever After ♥

my own chocolate center has filled up with poison,the roses he gave me all twisted black

There's that horrible-beautiful moment, that bitter-sweet impasse where you know that somebody is bullshitting you but they're doing it with such panache and conviction...no, it's because they say exactly what you want to hear, at that point in time.

Well, then, what's the plan now? You can't stay here forever.'My plan was indeed to stay there forever.

She said that everything that disappeared from our side went over to theirs, where they kept living normal lives, waiting for the things still lingering with us to join them, and make the world whole once more.

And as Sean climbs into bed and closes his eyes, Mother comes, riding astride a lion the size of a house, blowing a clarion from a horn made out of a hollowed-out elephant's tusk. Her eyes have a faint crimson glow from the lasers that are mounted behind her irises, ready to fire at will.'I touched a prince's chest today and made his heart stop,' she says. 'I'll do it again if I have to: they'll see what happens if anyone gets in my way. Good night, my son. Remember that I will always keep you s

Out on the lawn, Bunny had just knocked Henry's ball about seventy feet outside the court. There was a ragged burst of laughter; faint, but clear, it floated back across the evening air. That laughter haunts me still.

And you find some way to surviveAnd you find out you don't have to be happy at all..To be happy you're alive.

It's a good story,' he said. He even grinned at me. 'I'll tell you.''Please,' I said.And then he did.

He was the friend of my life. You know, you only have one friend like that; there can't be two.

And the pomegranates,/like memories, are bittersweet/as we huddle together,/remembering just how good/life used to be

Life at best is bittersweet.

He can smell his cologne, his shampoo, and something else -- he can smell the boy's own scent, something bittersweet.

Her eyes flashed, hot and angry, like lightening cutting through a red sunset.

The machines of this place are failing, and the woman and I are here all alone. The perpetual motion engine, as brilliant and beautiful as it is, is running down—nothing lasts forever. But before this little world falls out of the sky there still might be time enough for redemption. There is still time for me to say the words that I should have had the courage to say at the beginning.There is still time, perhaps, for one more miracle.Hello, Miranda.

Sentimental outbreaks are like liquorice; when first you suck it, it's not bad, but afterwards it leaves a very nasty taste in the mouth.

I do not think I responded immediately, for it took me a moment or two to fully digest these words of Miss Kenton. Moreover, as you might appreciate, their implications were such as to provoke a certain degree of sorrow within me. Indeed- why should I not admit it? - at that moment, my heart was breaking.

Would 'sorry' have made any difference? Does it ever? It's just a word. One word against a thousand actions.

I will tell you in another life when we are both cats.

But once in a while, you pick the right thing, the exact best thing. Every day, the moment you open your eyes and pull off your blankets, that's what you hope for. The sunshine on your face,warm enough to make you heart sing.

People are not rain or snow or autumn leaves they do not look beautiful when they fall.

He wasn’t my boyfriend, but he was something. Someone who made a positive impact on my life regardless of the negative. He changed my perspective for the better and made me who I am in this very second. I appreciate, cherish, and thank him for it; and I will for this life and into any life that may come.

I loved everything to anything to everyone who surrounded him. He was perfect. A delusion with a sweet melancholy taste. He was crazy, but he was my crazy and inside, everything felt right.

I realized I loved him after everything went wrong so I wallowed in self-pity and prayed I could wake up.

I am happy with you." It was only a half-lie. In truth, being with him made me happier than anything. But it was a bittersweet happiness because from this moment on, it would be overshadowed with the wait and wonder of when and how our relationship would dissolve.

Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown days, each far too little and yet too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer, with that bittersweet release lingering in the doorway, but never quite being sent all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place.” ― Connie Kerbs

We wander in our thousands over theface of the earth, the illustrious and the obscure, earning beyond theseas our fame, our money, or only a crust of bread; but it seems to methat for each of us going home must be like going to render an account.We return to face our superiors, our kindred, our friends--those whom weobey, and those whom we love; but even they who have neither, the mostfree, lonely, irresponsible and bereft of ties,--even those for whomhome holds no dear face, no familiar voice,-

We wander in our thousands over theface of the earth, the illustrious and the obscure, earning beyond theseas our fame, our money, or only a crust of bread; but it seems to methat for each of us going home must be like going to render an account.

I knew beauty for me would only ever be derived from loss.

We weren’t that different after all, our souls laden with the same ache of loss, our hearts bursting with the same longing to save what remained of all we loved.

I stood in my garden as the rain poured down, eyes closed, and when I opened them I thought to myself how I'd never seen anything more beautiful. Green flashed before my eyes; trees, leaves and grass, glittering with raindrops, the tears of angels weeping with sadness and joy; green, the colour of love, to remind me why I'm here.

Halfway down the aisle, Jamie suddenly seemed to tire, and they stopped while she caught her breath...It was, I remembered thinking, the most difficult walk anyone ever had to make. In every way, a walk to remember.

A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollarThey're worth so much more after I'm a gonerAnd maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'Funny when you're dead how people start listenin

The sharp knife of a short life, wellI've had, just enough time.

You are the illness I will never cure. You are the poem I will never write. You are the thought I will never finish. You are the text I will never read.

He grabbed my hand and that’s when I felt my heart beat for the very first time.

We were both smiling, in that bittersweet way one does when imagining something the heart longs for and the head would dread.

leave me some musicthat’s chocolate for the heart.

Eventually I’ll stop writing about you and it’ll be bittersweet. Not because I’m not in love with you, but because I’ll just love you.

We were in ways I can’t seem to grasp. We moved like fluid, scattering our love throughout each other. We moved along, out of our eyes and through our veins. It was unintentionally and in turn, unconditionally.

I don’t believe he deserves the thousands of poems I’ve written about him, but life doesn’t follow rules. We do things for people who don’t necessarily deserve it. But we liked it, we loved it and fell in love enough to write about it.

I never expected to fall in love. I never expected to float or fall a thousand feet and create the crevice I called my life. But the thing with crevices, there’s always a top and always a bottom. And the feeling of appreciation when you look from the top and understand how fast it can all come crashing down — it’s more than beautiful and more than words could ever explain.

I’m sorry I broke you. It’s just that you’re so pretty, and I break pretty things.

Was it always to be like this? she wondered. A moment of joy followed by a new sorrow?

...the sweetness of grace and freedom comes hand in hand with the uncomfortable, bitter-rawness of honest emotions and grief.

I found it not inappropriate that the years of frustration and grief and loss, of work and conflict and painful resurrection, should have led me through their dark and devious ways to this new beginning.

Victory is always bittersweet.

I'll fight it. I'll fight it for you. Don't you worry about me, Hazel Grace. I'm okay. I'll find a way to hang around and annoy you for a long time.

Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.

Momentary happiness is worse than permanent misery.

I would stay away from him and leave him to go his own road where there would be other women, countless other women, who would probably give him as much physical pleasure as he had had with me. I wouldn’t care, or at least I told myself that I wouldn’t care, because none of them would ever own him—own any larger piece of him than I now did.

i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.

Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.

But one day, when Toby is old enough, I will take down a shoe box from a shelf where it is kept, and I will tell him again the story of his sister, Isabel Margaret Cavendish, the girl who came before.

I ain’t scared to lend a handI ain’t scared to clench it either