Ani DiFranco Quotes

Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies; The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare, And shed their substance on the floating air.

Thank you for your coffee, seignior. I shall miss that when we leave Casablanca.

There's never a right time to say goodbye.

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.

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

And now, gentlemen, like your manners, I must leave you.

I will be the one to leave you.

It is always sad to leave a place to which one knows one will never return.

Ladies and gentlemen, Otis Alexander Sudeikis has LEFT the building! (I'm the building)

On the eve of long voyages or an absence of many years, friends who are tenderly attached will seperate with the usual look, the usual pressure of the hand, planning one final interview for the morrow, while each well knows that it is but a poor feint to save the pain of uttering that one word, and the meeting will never be. Should possibilities be worse to bear than certainties?

I have no parting sigh to give, so take my parting smile.

Turning Wearily, as one would turn to nod goodbye to Rochefoucauld, If the street were time and he as the end of the street.

Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack And leave your friends and go.

Goodbye -- Because I love you.

The time was fast approaching when Earth, like all mothers, must say farewell to her children.

Hey, don't take this the wrong way, but don't come back, ok?

Now leave. (Adron) Why would I want to do that? I mean, heaven forbid I should be around someone who actually likes me. It’s so much more fun to be here with you insulting my manhood and questioning my parentage every five seconds. (Tiernan)

To say goodbye is to die a little.

Farewell has a sweet sound of reluctance. Good-by is short and final, a word with teeth sharp to bite through the string that ties past to the future.

When the railroad trains moaned, and river-winds blew, bringing echoes through the vale, it was as if a wild hum of voices, the dear voices of everybody he had known, were crying: "Peter, Peter! Where are you going, Peter?" And a big soft gust of rain came down. He put up the collar of his jacket, and bowed his head, and hurried along.

I loved my friend He went away from me There's nothing more to say The poem ends, Soft as it began- I loved my friend.

I wanted to say goodbye to someone, and have someone say goodbye to me. The goodbyes we speak and the goodbyes we hear are the goodbyes that tell us we´re still alive.

My native land, good night!