Hard To See You Leave Quotes & Sayings

He had strong, steady hands, and I could tell from looking at them there was little he couldn't do. Mossy always said you could tell everything you needed to know about a man from his hands. Some hands, she told me, were leaving hands. They were the wandering sort that slipped into places they shouldn't, and they would wander right off again because those hands just couldn't stay still. Some hands were worthless hands, fit only to hold a drink or flick ash from a cigar, and some were punishing hands that hit hard and didn't leave a mark and those were the ones you never stayed to see twice.
But the best hands were knowing hands, Mossy told me with a slow smile. Knowing hands were capable; they could soothe a horse or woman. They could take things apart
including your heart
and put them back together better than before. Knowing hands were rare, but if you found them, they were worth holding, at least for a little while. — Deanna Raybourn

Otherwise, there were no long goodbyes or emotional scenes. That isn't part of foster care. You just leave and you just die a little bit. Just a little bit because a little bit more of you understands that this is the way it's going to be. And you grow hard around the edges, just a little bit. Not in some big way, but just a little bit because you have to, because if you don't it only hurts worse the next time and a little bit more of you will die. And you don't want that because you know that if enough little bits of you die enough times, a part of you leaves. Do you know what I mean? You're still there, but a part of you leaves until you stand on the sidelines of life, simply watching, like a ghost that everyone can see and no one is bothered by. You become the saddest thing there is: a child of God who has given up. — John William Tuohy

One of the problems of the vacation is money, father."

"Oh, I shouldn't worry about a thing like that at your age."

"You see, I've run rather short."

"Yes?" said my father without any sound of interest.

"In fact I don't quite know how I'm going to get through the next two months."

"Well, I'm the worst person to come to for advice. I've never been 'short' as you so painfully call it. And yet what else could you say? Hard up? Penurious? Distressed? Embarrassed? Stony-broke?" (Snuffle.) "On the rocks? In Queer Street? Let us say you are in Queer Street and leave it at that. Your grandfather once said to me, 'Live within your means, but if you do get into difficulties, come to me. Don't go to the Jews. — Evelyn Waugh

Love is hard Phoenix. It's not always easy like you see in fairy tales. You have to take the good with the bad; the scary with the excitement. If you love him, trust him. If not than you need to set him free, but don't leave him if you can't let him go. Think about that one. — Victoria Ashley

I know something happens between the time our mothers and fathers and teachers and mentors send us out into the world telling us, "The world is yours," and "You are beautiful," and "You can be anything," and the time we return to them.

Something happens when people tell me I have a pretty face, ignoring me from the neck down. When I watch the news and see unarmed black men and women shot dead over and over, it's kind of hard to believe this world is mine.

Sometimes it feels like I leave home a whole person, sent off with kisses from Mom, who is hanging her every hope on my future. By the time I get home I feel like my soul has been shattered into a million pieces.

Mom's love repairs me. — Renee Watson

KM: Yes. Mrs. Lopez, she's human. And you know, clearly, she'd like people to show some appreciation for her hard work. But if people just, you know, take her pie and don't even say, "Hey, nice pie," they just scarf it down or whatever-
MH: I could see how that would get to be annoying. I mean, if you're constantly providing ... pie. And getting no positive feedback-
KM: Right! And what about your future? I mean, how do you know people are still going to want your pie in the future? Supposing they become a famous rock star or something. People are going to be offering them pie all over the place. If they haven't promised only to eat your pie, well, where does that leave you? — Meg Cabot

I want to believe your love is only for me. That your lips are mine. That your kisses are meant for me. That your body belongs to me." His arms move to my waist and tighten around me and he presses his hard body against mine. "But when you leave me to see him, it's hard to know for sure. — Kim Karr

This way of behaving, this way of feeling, so hysterical, so sad, when someone has died, I don't like at all and would like to avoid. It's not as if the whole thing has not happened before, it's not as if people have not been dying all along and each person left behind is the first person ever left behind in the world. What to make of it? Why can't everybody just get used to it? People are born and they just can't go on and on, but it is so hard, so hard for the people left behind; it's so hard to see them go, as if it had never happened before, and so hard it could not happen to anyone else, no one but you could survive this kind of loss, seeing someone go, seeing them leave you behind; you don't want to go with them, you only don't want them to go. — Jamaica Kincaid

Do you remember the summer we signed you up for camp? And the night before you left, you said you've changed your mind and wanted to stay home? I told you to to get a seat on the left side of the bus, so when you pulled away, you'd be able to look back and see me there waiting for you." I press her hand against my cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. "You get that same seat in Heaven. One where you can watch me, watching you. — Jodi Picoult

Breaking the kiss when she had reached the point where she had begun to hope he would never stop, he surged over her and she felt his need digging into her belly as he burrowed his face against her neck. "Don't torture me anymore. I am repentant. I swear."
She opened her eyes to look at him as he lifted his head.
His features were drawn and harsh with painful need. "I have never been more miserable in my life, Mellie, and the only way you could possibly make me more miserable is to leave where I can not even see you."
Lifting a hand, she stroked his hard cheek. He turned his face into her palm, kissing it. "Don't make beg, Mellie."
"Why?"
A pained look flickered across his features. "Because I will, and my ego might never recover. — Julia Keaton

I'm sorry if I made you think I don't trust you."
"You don't. Not yet. And that's okay. Just stop assuming I'm only out to hurt you, or take something you're not willing to give. If you're not interested, all you have to do is say so. I can't say I won't be disappointed, but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."
"I am interested," she said more boldly than she actually felt. "Please understand, my caution comes from experience. You've already proven you're not like the asshole. I'm glad you came last night. I'm glad you're still here this morning."
"See, I'm not so hard to like," he teased, putting her at ease after the tense moments they'd just shared. — Jennifer Ryan

Why would a white caribou come down to Beaver River, where the woodland herd lives? Why would she leave the Arctic tundra, where the light blazes incandescent, to haunt these shadows? Why would any caribou leave her herd to walk, solitary, thousands of miles? The herd is comfort. The herd is a fabric you can't cut or tear, passing over the land. If you could see the herd from the sky, if you were a falcon or a king eider, it would appear like softly floating gauze over the face of the snow, no more substantial than a cloud. "We are soft," the herd whispers. "We have no top teeth. We do not tear flesh. We do not tear at any part of life. We are gentleness itself. Why would any of us break from the herd? Break, apart, separate, these are hard words. The only reason any of us would become one, and not part of the herd, is if she were lost. — Kathleen Winter

ANGELS You might see an angel anytime and anywhere. Of course you have to open your eyes to a kind of second level, but it's not really hard. The whole business of what's reality and what isn't has never been solved and probably never will be. So I don't care to be too definite about anything. I have a lot of edges called Perhaps and almost nothing you can call Certainty. For myself, but not for other people. That's a place you just can't get into, not entirely anyway, other people's heads. I'll just leave you with this. I don't care how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. It's enough to know that for some people they exist, and that they dance. — Mary Oliver

It should be inserted here parenthetically that there's a school of mechanical thought which says I shouldn't be getting into a complex assembly I don't know anything about. I should have training or leave the job to a specialist. Thats a self-serving school of mechanical eliteness I'd like to see wiped out. [ ... ] You're at a disadvantage the first time around it may cost you a little more because of parts you accidentally damage, and it will almost undoubtedly take a lot more time, but the next time around you're way ahead of the specialist. You, with gumption, have learned the assembly the hard way and you've a whole set of good feelings about it that he's unlikely to have. — Robert M. Pirsig

When the thing that your heart strongly loves to do is the thing world hungers and thirsts to see done, then that's what you were called to do. You must never leave it undone! — Israelmore Ayivor

I have to leave now, but please know i'll be with you always. When you hear meadowlarks in the spring and see geese flying across the field in the fall, think of me. But please don't be sad. I always wanted you to be happy. Remember I will love you always. There were so many things I wanted to do still, so many things left to say to all of you. I wasn't afraid of dying. It was just leaving all of you that was so hard. We can't see beyond, but this much I know: I loved you all so much, and it was heaven having your love in return. — B.K. Loren

What if this was a sign? Maybe I'm not supposed to be an Outsider.
He surprised her by taking her hand and threading his fingers through hers. "You already are an Outsider. You fit everywhere. You just don't see it yet."
She stared at their hands. He'd never done that before.
Roar gave her a droll look. "It's just odd having you lay your hand on my arm all the time," he said, responding to her thoughts.
Yes, but this feels intimate. Don't you think it does? I don't mean that I think we're being too intimate. I guess I do. Roar, sometimes it's really hard to get used to this.
Roar flashed a grin. "Aria, this isn't intimate. If I were being intimate with you, trust me, you'd know."
She rolled her eyes. Next time you say something like that, you should toss a red rose and then leave with a swish of your cape. — Veronica Rossi

They were your friends?"
"Yes, they were my friends."
"And they will leave you to suffer alone?"
"Now I see it."
"And until this, were they friends you could trust?"
"I could trust them."
"I see what you mean. You mean they were the kind of friends that a good man could choose, upright, hard-working, obeying the law?
Tell me, were they such friends?
And now they leave you alone?
Did you not see it before?"
"I saw it. — Alan Paton

One day Mom came to my hospital room and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing me. I could already see tears forming in the corners of her eye. She said she had something to tell me. Whatever she was about to say was hard for her to get out. Her voice was noticeably shaky and her chin quivered as she spoke.
"Noah, I've got to leave and get back to work. And besides, I am helping you too much. You need to be doing more on your own." She couldn't hold it back at all and by the time she finished the second sentence the tears were streaming down her rosy cheeks.
After a few deep breaths, she continued, "But your dad is here, and you know Dad, he's not that helpful." We both laughed at that as she leaned forward on the bed and grabbed my hand. I told her that I understood and that yes, it was probably best because Dad would help but not too much. — Noah Galloway

You don't know what it means to be betrayed!
Should I explain it to you? It means to be treated like trash and your feelings get stepped on ...
you get hurt over and over again and in the end you are left alone!
Can't you see how much I care for you? How hard I'm trying to connect with you?
When did I ever betray you?
When did I ever leave you alone? — Yuuki Obata

I'd seen it happen, how hard it was to get out. Every year, one or two kids would visit from college for a long October weekend and simply never leave. They came home, cocooned themselves in the familiar radius of the town limits, and never broke free again. Years later, you'd see them working in the kitchen at the pizza place, or sitting at the bar in the East Bank Tavern. Shoulders hunched, jaw set, skin slack. And in the waning light of their eyes, the barest sensation that once upon a time, they been somewhere else ... or maybe it was only a dream. — Kat Rosenfield

This is your captain speaking, so stop whatever you're doing and pay attention. First of all I see from our instruments that we have a couple of hitchhikers aboard. Hello, wherever you are. I just want to make it totally clear that you are not at all welcome. I worked hard to get where I am today, and I didn't become captain of a Vogon constructor ship simply so I could turn it into a taxi service for a load of degenerate freeloaders. I have sent out a search party, and as soon as they find you I will put you off the ship. If you're very lucky I might read you some of my poetry first. Secondly, we are about to jump into hyperspace for the journey to Barnard's Star. On arrival we will stay in dock for a seventy-two-hour refit, and no one's to leave the ship during that time. I repeat, all planet leave is canceled. I've just had an unhappy love affair, so I don't see why anybody else should have a good time. Message ends. — Douglas Adams

Whore!" he snarls, slamming me into the wall so hard stars burst in my eyes. I hiss at him, the tiger in me threatening to emerge and rip out his throat, but a shout brings me back to myself.
"Zahra!"
I turn my head and see Aladdin running toward us. When he sees that it's Darian holding me roughly against the wall, his face twists into such rage that he seems unrecognizable.
He crashes into Darian before the prince has a chance to say anything. The two slam into the ground, Aladdin throwing a punch that cracks against Darian's jaw.
"Stop it!" I cry. "Prince Rahzad!"
The boys ignore me, rolling and thrashing like dogs.
Leave them! Zhian roars. Let me out!
"How dare you touch her?" Aladdin spits, grabbing Darian by the hair and pressing the prince's face into the stone floor. "You bastard!"
"I didn't give her anything she didn't ask for," Darian hisses back. "Get off me or I'll have you executed! — Jessica Khoury

You don't have to be a channel for every free choice denied.
Every porcelain bride with no property rights, you don't have to prove you can fight like a man, leave the screaming to the lesbians!
Feminism is an outdated word, but see there's still need for women's movement because we still believe that our sexual power is all we have, we cling to it tighter to it then our own ovaries and we will pluck trust from fellow women who threaten to take it.
It's huge, this tumbling history that we carry on our shoulders. It's heavy and sometimes, it's hard to keep your composure.
Sometimes you just have to explode. — Lauren Zuniga

You didn't give me a chance to take care of you." An idea he could still barely wrap his head around. "No one does, Six. Not like you mean." "Because you have to let them. And it's hard." Her hands trembled, and she crossed her arms over her chest, as if to hide it. "You have to trust someone to see you when you're weak. And you have to trust yourself to leave if they break you. — Kit Rocha

Wait, so you do love me?" I asked, hope welling in my heart.
She growled and pounded her fist into a locker, leaving a fist-shaped dent. "Stop it, Justin. Stop it!"
I grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me and tell me you don't love me," I said. "Do it and I'll never bother you again."
"I don't love you," she mumbled.
"Look at me when you say it!"
She turned to me, her eyes hard but dull and faded. "I don't love you."
I let her go. My heart turned to lead, the heavy lump sagging in my chest. "Well, if there are agents out there looking to kill me, I guess it would be a mercy."
I turned to leave. Her hand gripped my shoulder.
"Please listen to me, Justin."
I pushed her hand away but didn't turn to face her. I couldn't let her see the tears welling in my eyes. "Why? What does it matter?"
"It just does. I - I don't want to see you hurt."
I took a deep shuddering breath. "You're not doing a very good job of it." I walked away and left her standing there. — John Corwin

My mouth went dry, my heart clattered. "Nick, don't leave. Don't go," I said unevenly. "Look, it's not that I'm not, you know ... it's just that this is all really new and sudden, and it's hard - "
"It's not hard for me!" he barked, causing both the cabbie and me to jump. "Harper, I've loved you all my adult life, but you just can't believe that, and nothing I do will change your mind. You want a guarantee, you want a fucking crystal ball to see the future, and I can't give you one. The only thing I can say is that I love you, I always have. I always will, but somehow that's not good enough for you. And I just can't do this anymore. — Kristan Higgins

I never want movie theaters go away. It is the greatest time out on the town. You go out, it's a great place to go, great location, great hang, great date, good place to be with friends. But as an actor who works hard at making movies, I am glad that no matter what people can see your movie on. It's hard to keep a theater for long time; there are so many movies, so when you leave a theater, you're just glad there's a life for your movie. — Adam Sandler

That the native does not like the tourist is not hard to explain. For every native of every place is a potential tourist, and every tourist is a native of somewhere. Every native everywhere lives a life of overwhelming and crushing banality and boredom and desperation and depression, and every deed, good and bad, is an attempt to forget this. Every native would like to find a way out, every native would like a rest, every native would like a tour. But some natives - most natives in the world - cannot go anywhere. They are too poor. They are too poor to go anywhere. They are too poor to escape the reality of their lives; and they are too poor to live properly in the place they live, which is the very place you, the tourist, want to go - so when the natives see you, the tourist, they envy you, they envy your ability to leave your own banality and boredom, they envy your ability to turn their own banality and boredom into a source of pleasure for yourself. — Jamaica Kincaid

You're joking." "No, actually I'm not," my boss said and slapped the folder into my hands. "You leave tomorrow morning and I don't want to see your hairy ass till this is solved." I looked wildly around her office for something to lob at her head. It occurred to me that might not be the best of ideas, but desperate times led to stupid measures. She could not do this to me. I'd worked too hard and I wasn't going back. Ever. "First of all, my ass is not hairy except on a full moon and you're smoking crack if you think I'm going back to Georgia." Angela crossed her arms over her ample chest and narrowed her eyes at me. "Am I your boss?" she asked. "Is this a trick question? — Robyn Peterman