Karen Kingsbury Quotes

Goodbyes are on of the hardest things about life. One way or another people were always leaving... Always moving on.

Like the seasons of the year, life changes frequently and drastically. You enjoy it or endure it as it comes and goes, as it ebbs and flows.

Thus we live, forever taking leave.

When she packed up to leave, she knew that she was saying goodbye to something important, which was not that bad, in a way, because it meant that at least you had said hello to it to begin with.

Just because she's leaving, don't start believing, that your rock and roll days are gone.

I know I can't stay here forever

It’s difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything’s changed.

It is amazing how nice people are to you when they know you're going away.

Time takes all and gives all.

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

Life is change, to cease to change is to cease to live; yet if you may shed a tear beside the death-bed of an old friend, let not your heart be silent on the dissolving of a faith.

Leaving Chelsea was sad, but naturally everything has to come to an end.

Not everyone is meant to stay forever.

The hardest thing for me is the sense of impermanence. All passes; nothing returns.

Oh, how quickly things changed! Why didn't happiness last for ever? For ever wasn't a bit too long.

Everything ends, people move on, they don't look back. It's how they should be.

Maybe everything really does just have an expiration date--one that you can't see until she tells you she's leaving, and then she's gone.

To see the farm is to leave it.

Life is filled with seasons and this is a different season.

I don't really have a problem saying good-bye to things. All things come to an end.

Life was a series of greetings and farewells, one was always saying good-bye to something, to someone.

Sunsets are loved because they vanish. Flowers are loved because they go. The dogs of the field and the cats of the kitchen are loved because soon they must depart. These are not the sole reasons, but at the heart of morning welcomes and afternoon laughters is the promise of farewell. In the gray muzzle of an old dog we see goodbye. In the tired face of an old friend we read long journeys beyond returns.

As my wise friend Didi has more than once observed about life's passages, every departure entails an arrival elsewhere, every arrival implies a departure from afar.

Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.