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Sad quotes biography

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Regret comes in four tones that operate in unison to shape our lives. First, we regret the life that we lived, the decisions we made, the words we said in anger, and enduring the shame wrought from experiencing painful failures in work and love. Secondly, we regret the life we did not live, the opportunities missed, the adventures postponed indefinitely, and the failure to become someone else other than whom we now are. American author Shannon L. Alder said, ‘One of the greatest regrets in life is being what others would want you to be, rather than being yourself.’ Third, we regret that parts of our life are over; we hang onto nostalgic feelings for the past. When we were young and happy, everything was new, and we had not yet encountered hardship. As we age and encounter painful setbacks, we experience disillusionment and can no longer envision a joyous future. Fourth, we experience bitterness because the world did not prove to be what we hoped or expected it would be. Sometimes I wonder, if your smile still writes music, a l o n g sheet-lightning - with thunder breaking between the verses. Every dim&dusty kitchen, I've been in since yours, doesn't have the right kind of coffee brewing, their windows are blemished, just not with your fingerprints, their floors don't have the dust of our ethereal footsteps - where we danced to a jazz song, on the radio station, at 3am, on a dwindling Tuesday.

Every time I'm in a dim&dusty kitchen that isn't yours, I find a reason not to stay - I'm full of excuses - their table cloths stained, the person inside their skin, just isn't you.
I think what bothers me the most, is their taps drip different - who would've thought. something so insignificant, could come back as a tidal wave. I'd lay awake, at 5am, as water dripped, like cracks in the ceiling of time. The longer awake, the longer I felt safe, laying beside you. What I'd give, to go back to the scratched, thick-oak table,
where we told stories about the 4am diners, & people, with highway wrinkles& crows feet; that deepen, where their smiles breaks like dawn & the moon in your pupils putting itself back together again.
There is a lifetime behind me, where you still linger - so loud, on quiet nights, you'd think it could shatter thunder - nobody knows it, but every so often, you come back as the recarnation of an earthquake. You rattle my bones& in between my toes, where the uncharted tile flooring meet my feet-souls. Your ghost still haunts me to shambles. My fingertips still carrying aftershocks years after. You are the 2am blues - veiling radio static, the soundtrack of crickets roaring - a pandemonium of cheers; screaming, for your encore - storm chasers, breathing in your lightning-strike ode. Sometimes the mere thought of you, shakes layers off my smile - Some nights, you shake me so restless, layers shed to the marrow, & I finally know the meaning beyond skin deep.

You were headlights, in broad-midnight, approaching. Your departure sweeps over me, like a cluster of honey-bees, swarming, as if I were one last half-bent, dandelion of the summer. 16 hours of driving, 120-kilometers an hour. Cigarettes and tastless gas station coffee, were barely a formidable opponent, that could challenge the sleepy words - almost too incognizant to decipher - and the jaded-eyelids with added bulk, as miles dwindled into sunrise. You are the intervals of rest stops now, where silence breaks me down. I'm lucky if my smile makes the sound of a match-sparking, cigarette lighting - the whicker of a drag - blowing smoke rings towards the moon - not the same without you here though, kind of sound. We were two time capsules shredded paper thin, that couldn’t stand the test of time. Ill always remember you sparked at 5:36am, with a sunny side up, kind of smile.
We once clasped our strawberry&hot-fudge dixie-cups, on a stormy ocean shoreline, with solidified sand pieces. Your smile writing music notes a l o n g sheet- lightning, about being a long ways, from the San Fransico Bay, where we held each others strawberry-ice cream stained fingers.

It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.I DON'T CARE Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!"
"You do care," said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming

Sad quotes for Her Tumblr Tagalog for Him Images In Hindi for Husband in Tamil Pics Photos Wallpapers