Susannah McCorkle Quotes

To me, the best writing points to something literal or common but is also nuanced: The moment when somebody is telling you they love you while simultaneously disappointing you. Everybody's experienced that.

I've got tooth marks on my heart.

I will always be the hopeless romantic, more often pathetic than heroic.

I've been dumped hard. My heart has been broken and shattered, and I've also been on the other end of that too.

I know what it's like to have a broken heart. I know what it's like to feel pain: When my songs don't become hits, it breaks my heart. There are a million ways to break a heart. I can relate.

I guess you could write a good song if your heart hadn't been broken, but I don't know of anyone whose heart hasn't been broken.

You can't go on telling, 'I am in love.'

'Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow,' if you go through the lyrics, is such a haunting melody, and the words are, for a pop song, pretty deep and dark.

I think that's very sad, that I haven't allowed my heart to be broken. I have broken a few.

The whole romantic part of my life was a wipeout. I didn't even own a belt.

Love hurts more than hate.

I'm a horrible romantic!

I think I'll always be a hopeless romantic.

I am two fools, I know, for loving, and for saying so in whining poetry.

I cannot love as I have loved, And yet I know not why; It is the one great woe of life To feel all feeling die.

I decided I was going to be in love. I was going to give it everything I had. It was like heaven on that ranch. I don't know why we broke up. We never fought.

I thought I was loved.

I was blinded by being a romantic person.

For reasons I don't fully understand, tragic love has a certain appeal.

I had lived a charmed life, and then I lost a beautiful woman I loved with all my heart.

I followed a guy to Denmark. I came home with a broken heart.

My heart got broken so many times because I put so much pressure on it. And then... I got blindsided.

I've had my heart broken one too many times.

There is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate, of testing, trying. And you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears.

Chimere's not mine. That hurt 'cause I had attached myself to this guy, you know. This is my son. I'm looking at him, and I'm picturing I'm gonna be old, and he's gonna be - this is my son! It's not my son.