David Mitchell Quotes

Have you ever felt like a phone call that's been disconnected?

Autumn is leaving its mellowness behind for its spiky, rotted stage. Don't remember summer even saying goodbye.

Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.

There's nothing here to say good-bye to. There's no dancing girl. No mischievous smile. She's gone, off with her sisters, broken free, escaped. And if she were here now, she would say, "Go.

They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer.

Never part without loving words to think of during your absence. It may be that you will not meet again in this life.

You won't hear from me again.

Odd how much it hurts when a friend moves away- and leaves behind only silence.

I feel guilty about spending so much time away from home and loved ones.

Fare thee well my nightingale, I lived but to be near you. Thow you are singing somewhere still I can no longer hear you.

As the presence of those we love is as a double life, so absence, in its anxious longing and sense of vacancy, is as a foretaste of death.

Now the windows, blinded by the glare of the empty square, had fallen asleep. The balconies declared their emptiness to heaven; the open doorways smelt of coolness and wine.

Goodbye, Room." I wave up at Skylight. "Say goodbye," I tell Ma. "Goodbye, Room." Ma says it but on mute. I look back one more time. It's like a crater, a hole where something happened. Then we go out the door.

It is a sad moment when the first phlox appears. It is the amber light indicating the end of the great burst of early summer and suggesting that we must now start looking forward to autumn. Not that I have any objection to autumn as a season, full of its own beauty; but I just cannot bear to see another summer go, and I recoil from what the first hint of autumn means.

A chord, stronger or weaker, is snapped asunder in every parting, and time's busy fingers are not practiced in re-splicing broken ties. Meet again you may; will it be in the same way? With the same sympathies? With the same sentiments? Will the souls, hurrying on in diverse paths, unite once more, as if the interval had been a dream? Rarely, rarely!

For summer there, bear in mind, is a loitering gossip, that only begins to talk of leaving when September rises to go.

Autumn is full of leave-taking.

I told you that I love you, I was only telling a lie. I'll be long gone come the crack of dawn and I believe the word is goodbye.

Because it is senior year I have begun to see things as potential absences. The things I love will become the things I'll miss.

And he left. I watched him walk out – he didn’t say good-bye, he didn’t even look back. It scared me, how easy it was for him to do that.

How do you say goodbye to someone who isn't exactly gone.

I tried his cell over and over but he never answered. Then I’d call just to hear his voice on the outgoing message, until eventually that was gone too.