Lord Byron Quotes

The whole world can become the enemy when you lose what you love.

And no. I must not go on thinking. For the pain will never go away. You just go on and live. In the dust of desertion. Still falling where last I loved.

Seems like just yesterday, you were a part of me. I used to stand so tall, I used to be so strong; your arms around me tight, everything felt so right - unbreakable, like nothing could go wrong. Now I can't breathe. No, I can't sleep; I'm barely hanging on. Here I am, once again, I'm torn into pieces. Can't deny it, can't pretend, just thought you were the one. Broken up, deep inside, but you won't get to see the tears I cry.

When David left me I became totally brokenhearted.

You left and I cried tears of blood. My sorrow grows. Its not just that You left. But when You left my eyes went with You. Now, how will I cry?

The delta blues is a low-down, dirty shame blues. It's a sad, big wide sound, something to make you think about people who are dead or the women who left you.

Getting through the nights is the toughest part. Being alone. Not having her there to talk to.

Does the world have nothing inside but sorrow?

I am not sad, but I am melancholic. When you lose your mother at 20 and then your father soon after, melancholia is part of your life.

Music breaks my heart constantly.

We don't live in the Garden. We live far from Eden. Every life is full of heartaches. Every life, frankly, is unspeakably sad.

It was the saddest day of my life.

Heartbreak is a real thing.

I write a lot of sad songs!

It had ceased raining in the night and he walked out on the road and called for the dog. He called and called. Standing in that inexplicable darkness. Where there was no sound anywhere save only the wind. After a while he sat in the road. He took off his hat and placed it on the tarmac before him and he bowed his head and held his face in his hands and wept. He sat there for a long time and after a while the east did gray and after a while the right and godmade sun did rise, once again, for all and without distinction.

Love of love written by the broken hearted, love of life written by the dead.

Tears were dripping onto my dress, but I wasn't making any sound. There was no sound to express thid kind of pain. I didn't want to move, didn't want to do anything. Fang was not waiting for me out in the living room. Tomorrow morning, when I woke up, Fang would still be gone.

He felt he had lost it for good, he knew what it was to have been in communication with her, and to be cast off again. In misery, his heart like a heavy stone, he went about unliving.

Everything I loved became everything I've lost.

When I realize that she is gone, perhaps gone forever, a great void opens up and I feel that I am falling, falling, falling into deep, black space. And this is worse than tears, deeper than regret or pain or sorrow, it is the abyss into which Satan was plunged. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or human touch of hand.

All my life I've always been so blue, born to lose, and now I'm losing you.

It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or die.

The world is a heartbreaking place, without any question.

One thing the blues ain't, is funny.

Every day is a new sense of tearing my heart out of my body again when I see other children who have been killed, and I know what their families are going through.