I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying.
My heart is so tired.
Do not assume that he who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, he would never have been able to find these words.
Thank you for the tragedy. I need it for my art.
To truly laugh, you must be able to take your pain, and play with it.
As artists, we are eternally heartbroken.
We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on.
We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ and I accept it. I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not imagination.
Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
This is my last message to you: in sorrow, seek happiness.
I’m not okay.
I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong.
I’m not crying because of you; you’re not worth it. I’m crying because my delusion of who you were was shattered by the truth of who you are.
Great men are always of a nature originally melancholy.
Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.
To be always fortunate, and to pass through life with a soul that has never known sorrow, is to be ignorant of one half of nature.
How can I be reasonable? To me our love was everything and you were my whole life. It is not very pleasant to realize that to you it was only an episode.
Life swings like a pendulum backward and forward between pain and boredom.