Alfred, Lord Tennyson Quotes

I feel my heart ache, but I've forgotten what that feeling means.

Sorrow is properly that state of the mind in which our desires are fixed upon the past without looking forward to the future.

I was weeping again, drunk on the impossible past.

That old feeling is still in my leaking heart.

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.

And now I have to stop. Because every time I remember this, I have to cry a little by myself. I don't know why something that made me so happy then feels so sad now. Maybe that is the way it is with the best memories.

I've never really had anybody close to me die. I think the song is about a feeling that I have that, it still applies. It's a feeling of longing, once again.

I miss Denny Crane.

Most of the songs I sing, they have that blue feeling to it. They have that sorry feeling. And I don't know what I'm sorry about.

Nostalgia is something we think of as fuzzy. But it's pain. Pain concerning the past.

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

To return after long years of painful absence to some place which has been the scene of our former joys, and whence the force of circumstance, and not choice, has driven us, is oppressive to the heart.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.

How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start, When memory plays an old tune on the heart.

On the rare occasions when I spend a night in Oxford, the keeping of the hours by the clock towers in New College, and Merton, and the great booming of Tom tolling 101 times at 9 pm at Christ Church are inextricably interwoven with memories and regrets and lost joys. The sound almost sends me mad, so intense are the feelings it evokes.

All the best songs have an element of sadness.

I left parts of myself everywhere, The way absent-minded people leave Gloves and umbrellas Whose colors are sad from dispensing so much bad luck

I can approve of those only who seek in tears for happiness.

So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.

Tears don't hurt like the ache does.

It’s just that I feel so sad these wonderful nights. I sort of feel they’re never coming again, and I’m not really getting all I could out of them.

There is an empty place within me where my heart once was.

Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp'd no more - Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day.

Whatever mourns when many leave these shores: Whatever shares The eternal reciprocity of tears.

I did not know how to reach him, how to catch up with him... The land of tears is so mysterious.