Gustave Flaubert Quotes

Seems like we always spend the best part of our time just saying goodbye.

There's never a right time to say goodbye.

Why did everything feel like saying good-bye?

Good-bye, my moonsong and my breath, my white nights and golden days, my fresh water and my fire. Good-bye, and may you find a better life, find comfort again and your breathless smile, and when your beloved face lights up once more at the Western sunrise, be sure what I felt for you was not in vain. Good-bye and have faith, my Tatiana.

Good-byes breed a sort of distaste for whomever you say good-bye to; this hurts, you feel, this must not happen again.

It is always sad to leave a place to which one knows one will never return. Such are the melancolies du voyage: perhaps they are one of the most rewarding things about traveling.

Something that required the best of you has ended. You will miss it.

Nothing is so dear as what you're about to leave.

It's so hard saying goodbye... it's hard saying good bye to all the things that one has held dear for weeks, months, sometimes years.

This is a long goodbye, yet not time enough. I have no aptitude for this. I cannot learn this. I would hold on, and hold on, until my hands clutch at emptiness.

Ready to go but never to return.

No magic. I do believe you might have taken it all with you when you went away.

So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return.

For a while I shall still be leaving, looking back at you as you slip away into the magic islands of the mind. But for a while now all are alive, believing that in a single poignant hour we did say all that we could ever say in a great flowing out of radiant power. It was like seeing and then going blind.

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.

Whatever mourns when many leave these shores: Whatever shares The eternal reciprocity of tears.

Let's just hug already," he says. Keeping one hand firm on Caleb's arm, I wrapped my free arm around Zeke, and he does the same. When we break apart, I pull Caleb down the alley, and can't resist calling back, "I'll miss you." "You too, sweetie!" He grins, and his teeth are white in the twilight. They are the last thing I see of him before I have to turn and set out at a trot for the train.

Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.

I would never see her again, except in memory. She was here, and now she's gone. There is no middle ground. Probably is a word that you may find south of the border. But never, ever west of the sun.

Tomorrow, more's the pity, Away we both must hie, To air the ditty and to earth I.

Leaving San Francisco is like saying goodbye to an old sweetheart. You want to linger as long as possible.

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.

Farewell's a bitter word to say.