I began writing a book on love because I felt that the United States is moving away from love.
I love being in a brothers band. I have no desire to move away from it at all.
The celebrity thing's completely crazy. I think I just have to move away or give it up altogether. I couldn't have kids in the situation I'm in now. But I could just do something else. That's probably what's going to happen. I made a decision very recently that I want a life instead.
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.
Sooner or later we've all got to let go of our past.
This moving away from comfort and security, this stepping out into what is unknown, uncharted and shaky - that's called liberation.
We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.
But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.
Odd how much it hurts when a friend moves away- and leaves behind only silence.
Love is missing someone whenever you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in heart.
I am going away with him to an unknown country where I shall have no past and no name, and where I shall be born again with a new face and an untried heart.
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.
Part of being a winner is knowing when enough is enough. Sometimes you have to give up the fight and walk away, and move on to something that's more productive.
Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes.
Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
It may be that the satisfaction I need depends on my going away, so that when I've gone and come back, I'll find it at home.
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.
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.
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
Sweet is the memory of distant friends! Like the mellow rays of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart.
Time is a circus, always packing up and moving away.
You are always a student, never a master. You have to keep moving forward.
There are books so alive that you're always afraid that while you weren't reading, the book has gone and changed, has shifted like a river; while you went on living, it went on living too, and like a river moved on and moved away. No one has stepped twice into the same river. But did anyone ever step twice into the same book?
Nothing can cost you someone you love. The only thing that can cost you your husband is if you believe a thought. That's how you move away from him. That's how the marriage ends. You are one with your husband until you believe the thought that he should look a certain way, he should give you something, he should be something other than what he is. That's how you divorce him. Right then and there you have lost your marriage.
Happy trails to you, until we meet again.
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