Paul Simon Quotes

I had never felt so lonely and so sad in my entire life.

Nothing dries sooner than tears.

'Blue Nights' is a story of loss: simple, wrenching, inconsolable loss.

Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate; all that was once so beautiful is dead.

My mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.

Nothing remained but loneliness and grief.

I realize full well how hard it must be to go on living alone in a place from which someone has left you, but there is nothing so cruel in this world as the desolation of having nothing to hope for.

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.

Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.

Grief is an emotion that's almost unplayable because you're in a separate emotional state; it's an inconsolable emotion.

I used to cry myself to sleep every night. I missed singing so much. And performing. Man, I missed it so much.

I grew up in a house that was in a constant state of mourning.

Maybe I should quit the business. There's no one left for me to love. Mama's dead. Mr. Burns couldn't care less about me. What's left?

Music breaks my heart constantly.

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

When it was all over, and I was left alone in my office, I put my face in my hands and wept. I could do nothing less.

Chris' absence is very much felt. There's just a huge void in our home life.

I understand the power of sorrow, and I understand how far it can take us from ourselves if we let it.

I write a lot of sad songs!

I love writing sad songs.

All the best songs have an element of sadness.

A face peered. All the grey night In chaos of vacancy shone; Nought but vast Sorrow was there The sweet cheat gone.

Our hearts are breaking... We are lonely and deserted, sad and sick.

Little Words When you are gone, there is nor bloom nor leaf, Nor singing sea at night, nor silver birds; And I can only stare, and shape my grief In little words. I cannot conjure loveliness, to drown The bitter woe that racks my cords apart. The weary pen that sets my sorrow down Feeds at my heart. There is no mercy in the shifting year, No beauty wraps me tenderly about. I turn to little words- so you, my dear, Can spell them out.