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The hardest part of the show is saying goodbye when it's all done. It really breaks you.
Sep 30, 2025
When love turns away, now, I don't follow it. I sit and suffer, unprotesting, until I feel the tread of another step.
May everyone live, And may everyone die. Hello, my love, And my love, Goodbye.
Unless one says goodbye to what one loves, and unless one travels to completely new territories, one can expect merely a long wearing away of oneself and an eventual extinction.
And the relationships that happen become so intense, deep, involved and complex and really hard to say goodbye to. The hardest part of the show is saying goodbye when it's all done. It really breaks you.
People so seldom say I love you And then it's either too late or love goes. So when I tell you I love you, It doesn't mean I know you'll never go, Only that I wish you didn't have to.
It's sad, but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life, starts with goodbye.
The return makes one love the farewell.
True love doesn't have a happy ending, because true love never ends. Letting go is one way of saying I love you.
It's the way you ride the trail that counts.
You and I will meet again, When we're least expecting it, One day in some far off place, I will recognize your face, I won't say goodbye my friend, For you and I will meet again.
No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth.
Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven.
Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.
Man's feelings are always purest and most glowing in the hour of meeting and of farewell.
Saying goodbye doesn't mean anything. It's the time we spent together that matters, not how we left it.
Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.
Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.
A man never knows how to say goodbye; a woman never knows when to say it.
Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy, thank you for loving me and receiving my love in return. Thank you for the memories I will cherish forever. But most of all, thank you for showing me that there will come a time when I can eventually let you go.
Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Some trails are happy ones, Others are blue. It's the way you ride the trail that counts, Here's a happy one for you.
That bitter word, which closed all earthly friendships and finished every feast of love farewell!
The best things said come last. People will talk for hours saying nothing much and then linger at the door with words that come with a rush from the heart.
Never forget me, because if I thought you would, I'd never leave.
The song is ended, but the melody lingers on.
The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning.
If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.
The story of life is quicker then the blink of an eye, the story of love is hello, goodbye.
How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.
Some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end.
I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end.
The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected.
Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.
Happy trails to you, until we meet again.
Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.
As the presence of those we love is as a double life, so absence, in its anxious longing and sense of vacancy, is as a foretaste of death.
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.
Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.
Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
Love is missing someone whenever you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in heart.
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
Can miles truly separate you from friends... If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?
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