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| Tryon Edwards Quote |
Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven. -- Tryon Edwards
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| Helen Hayes Quote |
There's a little vanity chair that Charlie gave me the first Christmas we knew each other. I'll not be parting with that, nor our bed-the four-poster-I'll be needing that to die in. -- Helen Hayes
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| Colley Cibber Quote |
We shall find no fiend in hell can match the fury of a disappointed woman,scorned, slighted, dismissed without a parting pang. -- Colley Cibber
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| Princess Elizabeth Asquith Bibesco Quote |
'It is never good dwelling on good-byes,' she said. 'It is not the being together that it prolongs, it is the parting.' -- Princess Elizabeth Asquith Bibesco
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| Leonard Quote |
I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm, your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy, golden storm, yes many loved before us, I know we are not new, in city and in forest they smiled like me and you, but now it's come to distances and both of us must try, your eyes are soft with sorrow, Hey, that's no way to say goodbye. -- Leonard
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| Robert Burns Quote |
Ae fond kiss, and then we severA farewell, and then foreverDeep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,While the star of hope she leaves himMe, nae cheerful twinkle lights me,Dark despair around benights me. -- Robert Burns
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| Edgar Allan Poe Quote |
Take this kiss upon the brow And, in parting from you now,Thus much let me avow--You are not wrong who deemThat my days have been a dreamYet if hope has flown awayIn a night, or in a day,In a vision, or in none,Is it therefore the less goneAll that we see or seemIs but a dream within a dream. -- Edgar Allan Poe
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| William Shakespeare Quote |
Good night, good night parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow. -- William Shakespeare
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| Kahlil Gibran Quote |
My friends and my road-fellows, pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion. Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks a wine that flows not from its own winepress. Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful. Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block. Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking. Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpetings, and farewells him with hootings, only to welcome another with trumpetings again. Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation. -- Kahlil Gibran
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