Poetries Sad Quotes & Sayings

I admit that the eyes of the intellectually and culturally lively tend to glaze over at the mere mention of sociology, often with ample justification. — Richard Wall

One can't paint New York as it is, but rather as it is felt. — Georgia O'Keeffe

No man ought to write at all, or even to speak at all, unless he thinks that he is in truth and the other man in error. — G.K. Chesterton

I'm constantly on my toes and re-examining my own music. — Daryl Hall

A trial is two narratives competing for your attention. — Harlan Coben

The songs certainly have not made my fortune, but I am still grateful for the royalties when they come in. — Sydney Carter

We are sometimes so happy, and never in our lives have we known more unhappiness. It's as if we were working together on the same statue, cutting it out of each other's misery. But I don't even know the design. — Graham Greene

No, no I wouldn't annoy him for the world!" Aubrey said. "I do think he was quite pleased to see his little Aubrey, don't you? I have always regarded myself as the feminine influence in the family and quite definitely beneficent. — Georgette Heyer

War is a beastly business, it is true, but one proof we are human is our ability to learn, even from it, how better to exist. — M.F.K. Fisher

When I listen to a song, I don't say, 'Oh my gosh, that vocal line she sang was the best thing I ever heard.' I'm thinking, 'That lyric just moves me. That lyric just said what I feel better than I could say it myself.' — Taylor Swift

Souls, like rays of light, exist in perfect, parallel equality, always. But for when infinitely short a time they pass through the rough and delaying mechanism of life, they separate and disentangle, encountering different obstacles, traveling at different rates, like light refracted by the friction of things in its path. Emerging on the other side, they run together once more, in perfection. For the short and difficult span when confounded by matter and time they are made unequal, they try to bind together as they always were and eventually will be. The impulse to do so is called love. The extend to which they exceed is called justice. And the energy lost in the effort is called sacriface. On the infinite scale of things, this life is to a spark what a spark is to all the time man can imagine, but still, like a sudden rapids or bend in the river, it is that to which the eye of God may be drawn from time to time out of interest in happenstance. — Mark Helprin