Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.Ralph Waldo Emerson
“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”
"It’s beautiful when you find someone that is in love with your mind. Someone that wants to undress your conscience and make love to your thoughts. Someone that wants to watch you slowly take down all the walls you’ve built up around your mind and let them inside."
..the pain never truly goes away, it just gets smaller and condensed, tucked away in a corner somewhere in the deep recesses of the heart. There it remains at a constant low level ache, which with time may be overridden. There may be times when a site, a smell, a place, a song, an anniversary or birthday will trigger the old memories and the intensity of the grief and loss will return again. These feelings often arrive without warning and can be just as painful making one feel as though he/she was experiencing the loss anew.
"I just… I just woke up one day and I knew."
"…What I was never sure of with you."
I called Isaac, who cursed life and the universe and God Himself and who said where are the goddamned trophies to break when you need them, and then I realized there was no one else to call, which was the saddest thing. The only person I really wanted to talk to about Augustus Waters’s death was Augustus Waters.The Fault in Our Stars
Patience and Love agreed to meet at a set time and place; beneath the twenty-third tree in the olive orchard. Patience arrived promptly and waited. She checked her watch every so often but still, there was no sign of Love.
Was it the twenty-third tree or the fifty-sixth? She wondered and decided to check, just in case. As she made her way over to the fifty sixth tree, Love arrived at tree twenty-three where Patience was noticeably absent.
Love waited and waited before deciding he must have the wrong tree and perhaps it was another where they were supposed to meet.
Meanwhile, Patience had arrived at the fifty-sixth tree where Love was still nowhere to be seen.
Both begin to drift aimlessly around the olive orchard, almost meeting but never do.
Finally, Patience who was lost and feeling quite resigned, found herself beneath the same tree where she began. She stood there for barely a minute when there was a tap on her shoulder. It was Love.
“Where were you?” She asked. “I have been searching all my life.”
“Stop looking for me,” Love replied, “and I will find you.”