Never forget me, because if I thought you would, I'd never leave.
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.
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.
Can miles truly separate you from friends... If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?
Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven.
The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected.
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.
No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth.
Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.
As contraries are known by contraries, so is the delight of presence best known by the torments of absence.
But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
Some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end.
Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.
Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.
Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.
Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
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 world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning.
How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.
Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes.
Sweet is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.
Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.
Good-byes breed a sort of distaste for whomever you say good-bye to; this hurts, you feel, this must not happen again.
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