Davy Jones Quotes

I've often been the guy who doesn't get the girl.

Not to be loved is a misfortune, but it is an insult to be loved no longer.

Girls rejected me a lot.

Unrequited love–plain desperate aboveboard boy-chasing–turned you into a salesperson, and what you were selling was something he didn't want, couldn't use, would never miss. Unrequited love was deciding to be useless, and I could never abide uselessness.

Perhaps a great love is never returned.

There is no cruelty greater than a woman's to a man who loves her and whom she does not love; she has no kindness then, no tolerance even, she has only an insane irritation.

It's not the loving that hurts this girl; it's the understanding of it for what it is, that it will never be returned in the same way, that threatens to destroy her. But to unload the words - "I love you" - on an innocent party who didn't ask for it, to reach across the dark space and touch him - it's like the world she knows could end if she dared speak these words, dared make such a move.

I've been flushed from the bathroom of your heart.

I am hated for loving. I am haunted for wanting.

I told him I loved him,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And he just said it wasn’t enough.” Her eyes were wide and bleak . “How am I supposed to live with that?

We can't be friends Cause I'm still in love with you.

I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.

A man would rather be trampled by elephants on fire than tell you he's just not that into you.

You asked why I couldn't forgive you," Nick said, very quietly, and I jumped a little. "It was because you were the love of my life, Harper. And you didn't want to be. That's hard to let go.

There's nothing you could really avoid about giving yourself to somebody who ultimately rejects you. That's just life.

An oyster may be crossed in love.

‎Keep your love, I have no use for it anymore.

I am dead. I have no desire for you. My body no longer wants the one who doesn’t love.

You got me sitting on the shelf, while you're out bewitching someone else.

It was not enough to be the last guy she kissed. I wanted to be the last one she loved. And I knew I wasn’t. I knew it, and I hated her for it. I hated her for not caring about me. I hated her for leaving that night, and I hated myself , too, not only because I let her go but because if I had been enough for her, she wouldn’t have even wanted to leave. She would have just lain with me and talked and cried, and I would have listened and kissed at her tears as they pooled in her eyes.

Out of her favour, where I am in love.

This is what it feels like to care about someone who doesn't feel the same. I'd only known how it felt to love someone who loved me just as fiercely. I'd never known rejection. I'd never wanted someone who didn't want me. The longing didn't go away with rejection.

If with love thy heart has burned; If thy love is unreturned; Hide thy grief within thy breast, Though it tear thee unexpressed; For when love has once departed From the eyes of the false-hearted, And one by one has torn off quite The bandages of purple light; Though thou wert the loveliest Form the soul had ever dressed, Thou shalt seem, in each reply, A vixen to his altered eye; Thy softest pleadings seem too bold, Thy praying lute will seem to scold; Though thou kept the straightest road, Yet thou errest far and broad.

Why is love so good...? You love someone and they leave. They come home one day and you say "What's happening?" and they say, "I got a better offer someplace else," and there they go, out of your life forever, and after that until you're dead you're carrying around this huge hunk of love with no one to give it to. And if you do find someone to give it to, the same thing happens all over.

Mort was hurt by this. It was one thing not to want to marry someone, but quite another to be told they didn't want to marry you.