is this fragile love a way to say goodbye
There's nothing more difficult than saying goodbye to a house where you've suffered.
Farewell has a sweet sound of reluctance. Good-by is short and final, a word with teeth sharp to bite through the string that ties past to the future.
There are lines upon my face from a lifetime of smiles
They parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never meeting again.
There's never a right time to say goodbye.
On a day of burial there is no perspective--for space itself is annihilated. Your dead friend is still a fragmentary being. The day you bury him is a day of chores and crowds, of hands false or true to be shaken, of the immediate cares of mourning. The dead friend will not really die until tomorrow, when silence is round you again. Then he will show himself complete, as he was--to tear himself away, as he was, from the substantial you. Only then will you cry out because of him who is leaving and whom you cannot detain.
To say goodbye is not to develop amnesia
One of the difficult things of so much travelling is to say goodbye.
Since I’ve known you, you’ve been spinning and spinning and spinning into all these various personas, and none of this self-exploration and experimentation has given you a sense of peace. I’ve known you for six years, intimately for four, and I still have no idea who I’m in love with.
How do you say goodbye to someone who isn't exactly gone.
I've always liked what the Navajos say when they part. They never say 'Goodbye. ' They say 'Go in beauty. '
Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved
To raise the veil. To see what you're saying goodbye to.
Nothing's worse than saying goodbye. It's a little like dying.
Your time may come. Do not be too sad, Sam. You cannot be always torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do.
At last, the wheel comes full circle
true love never says goodbye
Life is made of ever so many partings welded together.
There is someone I must say goodbye to. Oh, not you - we are sure to see each other again - but the Lily Bart you knew. I have kept her with me all this time, but now we are going to part, and I have brought her back to you - I am going to leave her here. When I go out presently she will not go with me. I shall like to think that she has stayed with you.