Hearts That We Broke Long Ago Quotes

The nightingales are sobbing in The orchards of our mothers, And hearts that we broke long ago Have long been breaking others; Tears are round, the sea is deep: Roll them overboard and sleep. ~ W. H. Auden

It has been said that a lot of women of our generation "grew up to be the men they always wanted to marry ~ Merle Shain

Six months
It been six months since you passed
How long must these feelings of loss last ?
It's been six months since you died,
on the surface it appears I never really cried.
I hide away my tears, my sorrow, my fears.
They say time heals all wounds
Wounds may heal, but scars remain.
No one really sees the pain
that hides behind my eyes.
A heart of gold stopped beating
two twinkling eyes closed to rest
God broke our hearts that day to prove he only took the best
Never a day goes by that you're not in our hearts, our minds and in our souls.
We miss you dad. ~ Michael Tianias

Jessica, falling in love can't always be a happily ever after or a once in a lifetime kind of story. Those happen in books, in movies. This is life and it's real. Life has no script, no outline. We broke the rules of love long ago. All I know for sure is that with you, the rules will never apply. ~ Kathryn Perez

I definitely shut down sometimes. I always just go into my own little cocoon and write, and I surround myself with as much music as possible. The last girlfriend I had, when we broke up, I remember being in a room for days on days on days with my music cranked up, playing songs like Kanye's '808's & Heartbreak.' That playlist just was long! ~ Tristan Wilds

So let me get this straight – this is a long sentence. We are going to be gifted with a health care plan that we are forced to purchase, and fined if we don't, which reportedly covers 10 million more people without adding a single new doctor, but provides for 16,000 new IRS agents, written by a committee whose chairman doesn't understand it, passed by Congress, that didn't read it, but exempted themselves from it, and signed by a president who smokes, with funding administered by a treasury chief who didn't pay his taxes, for which we will be taxed for four years before any benefits take effect, by a government which has bankrupted Social Security and Medicare, all to be overseen by a surgeon general who is obese and financed by a country that is broke. So what the blank could possibly go wrong? ~ Barbara Bellar

I do feel immigration will probably be dealt with as long as [the solution] doesn't provide amnesty ... Five years ago, all hell broke loose ... This year, I thought phones would ring off the hook again. They really haven't. I think everybody realizes we have a problem. ~ Johnny Isakson

I was dating my first boyfriend in high school for a long time, and we broke up before prom. I hadn't met anyone else that I really wanted to go with, and my friends have always been amazing. So I went with my friends and got a million photos with them! ~ Shay Mitchell

Will you have this man to be your husband; to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?
"I will." I breathed in.
The scent of roses…the evening light coming through the stained-glass window.
Will you have this woman to be your wife; to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?
"I will." That voice. The voice from all the phone calls. I was marrying that voice. I couldn't believe it.
We faced each other, our hands intertwined.
In the Name of God, I take you to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.
He stood before me, his face serious. My heart leaped in my chest. Then I spoke the words myself.
In the Name of God, I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.
Marlboro Man watched me as I spoke, and he listened. My voice broke; emotion moved in. It was a beautiful moment--the most beautiful ~ Ree Drummond

When you left me I was lost. I didn't know what to do, who I was or what I was going to do. Time froze for me. I woke up every morning with you in my head. That feeling of being lost, not knowing who I was, was terrible. It was so bad that I spent everyday numbing my pain with drugs and alcohol until I passed out. Not because I enjoyed it but because it was the only way I could sleep.

When I look back, you had every reason to leave me. I was no good for you. We rotted at my place, didn't do anything, treated you bad, picked everything over you. I had no motivation to do begin work, debt stacked up higher and higher. Until finally, welcome to rock bottom. Heck im surprised you stayed as long as you did. But when you left and I realized what I did to cause this, I thought to my self that when I look back at this I want to know I tried to get her back. I couldn't let you go without a fight, I wanted to know that I tried to get you back. And I tried.

After I saw you with another person my heart broke in pieces and like pieces of glass it felt stuck in my throat. You told me its what you wanted to do from the beginning and I didn't want to believe it. But after that I gave up on you and decided to pick up whatever pieces I had left and move on. At least I tried, that's what I told my self.

If I could go back and do it all over again, would I do it differently? Of course, but that's not reality. I focused on what was. In a way im glad things happ ~ Man

Graham leaned toward her, so that their faces were only inches apart. 'So that means we can do this now?' he asked, and then he kissed her, a kiss that seemed to go on forever.
She grinned as they finally broke apart. 'I guess so.'
'That's not such bad news then.'
'No, I guess not, when you put it that way.'
'As long as you're okay,' he added, and she nodded. ~ Jennifer E. Smith

Do you remember the time we tied a lasso to a tree limb and decided to swing across the creek like Tarzan?" Wyatt tipped up his frosty bottle and took a long pull.
"Yeah." Zane was already laughing. "As usual,you two decided that I'd be the one to try it out first.That way,if it broke,I'd be the one tossed into the creek."
"It stands to reason." Jesse chuckled. "You were the youngest. That's just the price you had to pay to hang out with us."
"And," Wyatt added, "you were always willing to go along with whatever we decided."
Zane shook his head. "Not when I used it to fly across the creek."
"And not when I followed him," Wyatt said with a laugh. "But Jesse, assured that it was safe,grabbed hold and was flying through the air when the branch snapped."
Amy looked over at her husband. "You landed in the creek?"
"Yeah? On the day after one of our biggest storms,with the water spilling over its banks and rushing so fast it carried me downstream half a mile or more."
She put a hand to her mouth to cover her shock and saw Cora do the same.
Wyatt laughed. "He was lucky Zane and I had our horses tethered nearby.We chased along the banks of the creek until we could get far enough ahead to toss him a tree branch to catch. By the time we hauled him out,he looked like a drowned rat and was spitting mad."
"I had a right to be.I swallowed half the creek."
Zane laughed. "But think how lucky we were that it happened to you instead of me. ~ R.C. Ryan

The subject dropped, and we sat on in the dusk that was rapidly deepening into night. The door into the hall was open at our backs, and a panel of light from the lamps within was cast out to the terrace. Wandering moths, invisible in the darkness, suddenly became manifest as they fluttered into this illumination, and vanished again as they passed out of it. One moment they were there, living things with life and motion of their own, the next they quite disappeared. How inexplicable that would be, I thought, if one did not know from long familiarity, that light of the appropriate sort and strength is needed to make material objects visible.

Philip must have been following precisely the same train of thought, for his voice broke in, carrying it a little further.

'Look at that moth,' he said, 'and even while you look it has gone like a ghost, even as like a ghost it appeared. Light made it visible. And there are other sorts of light, interior psychical light which similarly makes visible the beings which people the darkness of our blindness.' ("Expiation") ~ E.F. Benson

The red haired waitress arrived with their drinks, dancing about the table as she placed their orders in front of them. "Hiya, keeds. Peachy place, ain't it?" Before anyone could respond, she kicked her heels in the air and flitted off again.
Waldo lit up a cigarette and tasted his drink. "Listen, I don't think we ought to stay here very long...."
"No shit, Sherlock!" Brisbane chortled. "But first I want to have a little fun. I think I'm gonna talk to some of these guys."
The fredneck left the table and walked over to a group of five men, all of them clad in the old baseball uniforms that were apparently quite popular at The One Year Wonder And All-Around Oddity Bar. They were huddled together on one side of the bar, and Brisbane broke into their conversation with a burst of fredneck chutzpah. ~ Donald Jeffries

One glance. Once stare.
Was all it took to take my lungs to long for air.
The moment I saw you, is the moment I found myself.
It was unreal; this love thrill,
My soul it manifest. I was obsessed.
Maybe that's where I went wrong, love possessed.
Forced to cross the Rubicon, no protest.
From your end 'cause we shared the same sentiment
Love we earned, time we burned, look at what we've done.
Now we at the point of no return, no taking it back.
Our world like centre CERN, particles go round and back.
All we do is speak out of turn,
Argue, push buttons;
I guess that's the straw hun,
That broke the camel's back. ~ Soroosh Shahrivar

Is that a no?" I said.
"No. I mean.." He struggled for the smile again. "I'm just waiting for the punch line. Something about making it date so I need to pay. Or you expecting flowers. Or.." He trailed off.
"There isn't a punch line," I said.
I rose onto my knees and inched over, in front of him. Then I stopped about a foot away.
"No punch line, Daniel," I said. "I'm asking if you'll go out with me."
He didn't answer. Just reched out, his hand sliding between my hair and face, pulling me toward him and..
And he kissed me.
His lips touched mine, tentatively, still unsure, and I eased closer, my arms going around his neck. He kissed me for real then, a long kiss that I felt in the bottom of my soul, a click, some deep part of me saying, "Yes, this is it."
Even when the kiss broke off, it didn't end. It was like coming to the surface for a quick gasp of air, then plunging back down again, finding that sweet spot again, and holding onto it for as long as we could. Finally it tapered off, and we were lying on the picnic blanket, side by side, his hand on my hip, kissing slower now, with more breaks for air. until I said, "We should have done that sooner."
He smiled, a lazy half smile, and he just looked at me for a moment, our gazes locked, lying there in drowsy happiness, before he said, "I think now's just fine." And he kissed me again, slower and softer now, as we rested there, eyes half closed.
"So, about Saturday, did you ask ~ Kelley Armstrong

For as long as we can remember," [Griff] said, "I mean literally our whole conscious lives, time has been neatly divided into semesters and years. Each year completely distinguishable and unique. First grade, third grade. We didn't measure by age, we measured by grade. Like I know I broke my arm in sixth grade but I'd have to do the math to figure out what year that was, or how old I was. ~ Ben Monopoli

We sat within the farm-house old,
Whose windows, looking o'er the bay,
Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold,
An easy entrance, night and day.

Not far away we saw the port,
The strange, old-fashioned, silent town,
The lighthouse, the dismantled fort,
The wooden houses, quaint and brown.

We sat and talked until the night,
Descending, filled the little room;
Our faces faded from the sight,
Our voices only broke the gloom.

We spake of many a vanished scene,
Of what we once had thought and said,
And who was changed, and who was dead;

And all that fills the hearts of friends,
When first they feel, with secret pain,
Their lives thenceforth have separate ends,
And never can be one again;

The first slight swerving of the heart,
That words are powerless to express,
And leave it still unsaid in part,
Or say it in too great excess.

The very tones in why we spake,
Had something strange, I could but mark;
The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rattling in the dark.

Oft died the words upon our lips,
As suddenly, from out the fire
Built of the wreck of stranded ships,
The flames would leap and then expire.

And, as their splendor flashed and failed,
We thought of wrecks upon the main,
Of ships dismasted, that were hailed
And sent no answer back again.

The w ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The thread of shattered hopes covered us with the masquerade of betrayal. As always we will start picking up the pieces of our worthless life, scattered over the last 150 days in the hope of deliverance. With so many of us blinded for life ,some of us taken away for life all together, (you broke your promise once again), And I shall close the eyes of my conscience so that I don't introspect about the distrust,
long term suffering we will have to endure ,for we will always remain the nation of the suppressed!

Promises and lies!! ~ BinYamin Gulzar

I will ask you once to put the dark-skinned girl down and leave."
Crandle snorted. "And if we don't?"
That one eye narrowed slightly. "Then, long after we are gone to the goddess, the grandchildren of the grandchildren of those who witness will whisper fearful stories of the way I broke you. ~ Joe Abercrombie

When you got captured, I didn't know..." He trailed off, had to chug whiskey before he could continue. "If it'd be like..."

"What?"

"Like it was with Clotile."

"Oh, Jackson, no. I was okay. I'm unharmed."

"Didn't know if I'd get there too late," he said with a shudder. Then he crossed over to me, until we stood toe-to-toe. "Evie, if you ever get taken from me again, you better know that I'll be coming for you." He cupped my face with a bloodstained hand. "So you stay the hell alive! You don't do like Clotile, you doan take that way out. You and me can get through anything, just give me a chance."--his voice broke lower "just give me a chance to get to you." He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. "There is nothing that can happen to you that we can't get past."

...

"When you say we...?"

He pulled back, gazing down at me, his eyes blazing. "I'm goan to lay it all out there for you. Laugh in my face--I don't care. But I'm goan to get this off my chest."

"I won't laugh. I'm listening."

"Evie, I've wanted you from the first time I saw you. Even when I hated you, I wanted you." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I got it bad, me."

My heart felt like it'd stopped--so that I could hear him better.

"For as long as you've been looking down your nose at me, I've been craving you, an envie like I've never known."

"I don't look down at you! I'm ~ Kresley Cole

All right, then," she snapped, "do as you please! Perhaps afterward we could manage a coherent discussion." Twisting beneath him, she flopped onto her stomach.

Christopher went still. After a long hesitation, she heard him ask in a far more normal voice, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making it easier for you," came her defiant reply. "Go on, start ravishing."

Another silence. Then, "Why are you facing downward?"

"Because that's how it's done." Beatrix twisted to look at him over her shoulder. A twinge of uncertainty caused her to ask, "Isn't it?"

His face was blank. "Has no one ever told you?"

"No, but I've read about it."

Christopher rolled off her, relieving her of his weight. He wore an odd expression as he asked, "From what books?"

"Veterinary manuals. And of course, I've observed the squirrels in springtime, and farm animals and-"

She was interrupted as Christopher cleared his throat loudly, and again. Darting a confused glance at him, she realized that he was trying to choke back amusement.

Beatrix began to feel indignant. Her first time in a bed with a man, and he was laughing.

"Look here," she said in a businesslike manner, "I've read about the mating habits of over two dozen species, and with the exception of snails, whose genitalia is on their necks, they all - " She broke off and frowned. "Why are you laughing at me?

Christopher had coll ~ Lisa Kleypas

It takes an obsessive streak that borders on lunacy to go rummaging around in the past as memoirists are wont to do, particularly a fragmented or incendiary past, in which facts are sparse and stories don't match up. I don't know if memoirists as children are lied to more often as kids or only grow up to resent it more, but it does seem we often come from the ranks of orphans or half-orphans-through-divorce, trying to heal schisms inside ourselves. Like everybody, I suppose, people we loved broke our hearts because only they had access to them, and we broke our own hearts later by following their footsteps and reenacting their mistakes. ~ Mary Karr

I think,to add to the festive occasion, we ought to turn on the lights and siren." He turned to Delia. "What do you say?"
"Oh,heavens,no." She covered her mouth with her hand before giving it a second thought. "Sorry.That was the old Delia. The new Delia says yes.That would be so exciting."
Beside her,Marilee said sternly, "The old Marilee says you'll be breaking the law."
Wyatt winked. "This old rebel says he doesn't care. A celebration requires some noise."
The two exchanged a long look, then broke out into peals of laughter.
As they sped along the open highway, lights flashing,siren blasting, Delia found herself laughing along with them in absolute delight. Despite all the heartache,and all the turmoil,she was sharing a ride with Coot's grandson, heading out to Coot's ranch for the first time in over fifty years,and having the time of her life. ~ R.C. Ryan

That kiss was amazing; it had all the passion and longing we had been holding onto for so long. That is when the dam finally broke for me and I started crying. I knew right then that Hunter was the only one I wanted. He was my happily ever after. ~ Megan Smith

I'd once had a long-term relationship with a Five Point Five that got nowhere near living together. This was because I was a Two Point Five, he was a Five Point Five and he wanted a Nine Point Five. Therefore, we were both destined for a broken heart. He gave me mine. He later found a Six Point Five that wanted a Nine Point Five. She got herself a breast enhancement and nose job which made her a firm Seven (if you didn't count the fact that she thought she was a Ten point Five and acted like it which really knocked her down to a Six) who broke his heart. ~ Kristen Ashley

Tashi, you know I love you, don't you?" he said sofly in her ear.

She smiled: trust the son of a Horse Follower to woo in the saddle.

"I thought we were already betrothed."

"You broke it off, remember." He kissed the top of her head.

"Oh yes, I suppose I did. I'm sorry about that."

"I didn't deserve you. I don't deserve you now."

"Well, as long as you know that." She turned and gave him a mischievous smile. ~ Julia Golding

Sometimes I felt that there was something physical connecting us, a long rope that stretched between Boston and Portland: when she tugged on her end, I felt it on mine. Wherever she went, wherever I went, there it would be, that shining twined string that stretched and pulled but never broke, our every movement reminding us of what we would never have again. ~ Hanya Yanagihara

Oh,Mercer," he murmured against my temple once we'd come up for air, "we are so screwed."
I pressed my face against his neck, breathing him in. "I know."
"So what do we do?"
Reluctantly, I tried to move away. It was hard to think when he was so close to me. "If we were good people, we'd never see each other again."
His arms locked around my waist, pulling me back. "Okay,well, that's not happening. Plan B?"
I smiled up at him, feeling ridiculously giddy for someone on the verge of ruining her life. "I don't have one.You?"
He shook his head. "Nothing.But...look. I've spent basically my whole life pretending to be someone I'm not, faking some feelings, hiding others." Reaching down, he clasped my hand and lifted it so that our joined hands were trapped between our chests. "This thing with us is the only real thing I've had in a long time.You're the only real thing." He raised our hands and kissed my knuckles. "And I'm done pretending I don't want you."
I had read a lot about swooning in the romance novels Mom had tried to hide from me,but I'd never felt in danger of doing it until now. Which was why a snarky comment was definitely called for.
"Wow,Cross.I think you missed your calling.Screw demon hunting: you should clearly be writing Hallmark cards."
His face broke into that crooked grin that was maybe my favorite sight in the whole world. "Shut up," he muttered before lowering his head and kissing me again.
"Why is it," I said ~ Rachel Hawkins

We sat like that for a long time, until a discrete knock at the half-open door broke us apart. Lissa stood in the doorway.
"Sorry," she said, her face shining with joy when she saw me. "Should have put a sock on the door. Didn't realize that things were getting hot and heavy."
"No avoiding it," I said lightly, clasping Dimitri's hand. "Things are always hot with him around."
Dimitri looked scandalized. He'd never held back when we were in bed together, but his private nature wouldn't let him even hint about such matters and others. It was mean, but I laughed and kissed his cheek.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," I said. "Now that everything's out in the open."
"Yeah," he said. "I got a pretty 'fun' look from your father the other day. ~ Richelle Mead

If you wish to examine me to determine the sex of the child, you may do so." Her chin lifted. "But as you wish me to accept yourself, for your predatory nature, you must accept me as I am. My heart and soul may be Carpathian, but my mind is human. I will not be put on a shelf somewhere because you or my husband deems it necessary. Human women moved out of the dark ages a long time ago. My place is with Mikhail, and I must make my own decisions. If you feel the need to add your protection to Mikhail's I will be most grateful."
There was a long silence, and the red glow faded slowly from the slashing silver eyes. Gregori shook his head slowly, with infinite weariness. This woman was so different from his kind. Reckless. Compassionate. Unaware of every taboo she broke.
His hand went to her stomach, fingers splayed. He focused, aimed, sent himself out of his body.
His breath caught in his throat, and his heart seemed to melt. Deliberately he moved to surround the tiny being, merging his light and will for a heartbeat of time. He was taking no chances. This was his lifemate; he would ensure it with every means at his disposal, from the blood bonding to mental sharing. No one was as powerful as he. This female child was his and his alone. He could hang on until she came of age.
"We did it, didn't we?" Raven said softly, bringing Gregori back to his body. "She's a girl."
Gregori stepped away from Raven, holding on to his composure with his great strength of ~ Christine Feehan

I always thought of it like you said, that all the strings inside him broke. But there are a thousand ways to look at it: maybe the strings break, or maybe our ships sink, or maybe we're grass - our roots so interdependent that no one is dead as long as someone is alive. We don't suffer from a shortage of metaphors, is what I mean. But you have to be careful which metaphor you choose, because it matters. If you choose the strings, then you're imagining a world in which you can become irreparably broken. If you choose the grass, you're saying that we are all infinitely interconnected, that we can use these root systems not only to understand one another but to become one another. The metaphors have implications. Do you know what I mean? ~ John Green

In the living room Derek sprawled on the floor on a blanket, his eyes closed, his body human, corded with hard muscle, and covered only with a strategically placed towel. Julie knelt by him, long tweezers in her hand.
"What's going on?"
"Quills," she said. "Very thin quills. There was a magic plant and he decided it would be a good idea to give it a hug. Because he is smart that way."
So they had taken Julie with them. Considering where I'd gone and what I did while there, I didn't have room to talk.
Derek didn't bother opening his eyes. "I wasn't giving it a hug. I was shielding Ella."
"Mm-hm." Julie plucked a thin needle from his stomach. "You shielded her really well. Because it's not like we didn't have Carlos with us."
Carlos was a firebug. The plant must've gotten torched.
"We'll need to work on mixed-unit tactics," Curran said. He looked tired. It must've been hell. "So what did you do in Mishmar?"
Umm. Ehh. In my head I had somehow expected Erra to stay in Mishmar.
"I saw my father," I said. Start small.
"How was that?" Curran asked.
"He's a little upset with me."
"Aha."
"I broke Mishmar a little bit."
The three of them looked at me.
"But it was mostly my grandmother who did it."
"How much is a little bit?" Derek asked.
"There might be a crack. About maybe seven feet at the widest point."
Derek laughed.
"And what else?" Curran asked.
Perceptive bastard.
"And this." ~ Ilona Andrews

Ambition is, if not actively corrupting, corroding. To simply be happy is not enough; to bake a really good pie or play Monopoly with the kids, go out for a game of tennis with a friend--not enough. The wanting corrodes. I thought I was a prodigy until I met a few. I reached for the brush, the light, eventually for the words, and perfection evaded me--even a shadow of what I could see in my mind evaded me until something simply broke, or rather grew: a membrane that sealed me to the past, away from the glassy world. I suppose genius is no picnic, but to be moderately talented is a chronic wound. 'Human speech is like a kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.' How do we adjust to that, what kind of answer is there to such disappointment? To not being able to make what seems so possible to make, play what seems so easy for others to play? To knowing that Flaubert, who occupies another planet from me, felt himself to be a dullard? To be stuck with kettles. ~ Sallie Tisdale