Broken In Life Quotes Novels & Stories

“I had three children looking at me. Waiting for me to be strong.” He set his cup down on the table carefully. “I know I hurt you.” I turned back to face him. “Do you?” I asked. He swallowed. “Yes.” I walked closer again, stopping just a few steps away from him. “My heart was broken,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Not cracked. Not slightly damaged. Broken.” His jaw tightened. “Can you tell me something?” I continued. He nodded slowly. “If a glass breaks… if it shatters into pieces… can you put it back together and make it look the same again?”

she added. Broken, but learning from their failures.

He was the one who extinguished the fires of my troubles, the light in my darkest moments, the sweet encouragement that kept me moving forward. A lone tear escapes, tracing a path down my cheek, but I make no effort to stop it. I'm too broken to do anything right now. I just sit on Chris's unkempt porch, lost in my thoughts, navigating the turbulent waters of my emotions. Life often throws unexpected things at us, and we're never truly prepared. We must accept these challenges as they come and find the strength to move forward or grieve until there's nothing left to do.

I was right there with her. “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “How do I live with this?” I didn’t have the answer. But I couldn’t let her go under. Not now. Not her. “You live, baby,” I said, brushing her hair back. “You get up. One day at a time. With me. We don’t stop. We don’t break. We move. That’s what we do.” Her eyes searched mine. “But I’m broken…” I shook my head. “No. You’re hurt. You’re hurting like hell. But you’re still here. And as long as you’re here, I’m here. We’re gonna carry this together.”

Then he said something that broke my heart, shattered my world, broke me into pieces and left me in crumbles. “W.who ar.re you?”

'He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty or failed to express it; Who has left the world better than he found it, Whether an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; Who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; Whose life was an inspiration; Whose memory a benediction. Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You ha

’ I say as Edmond comes to sit beside me. ‘I love you mate’ I tell him as I stare up at him, right through his eyes. ‘I love you too a billion times’ he says as he devours my mouth. My life is so full now and I would never exchange this for nothing in the world. If there is one thing I have learnt, it is that nothing really is impossible because if a broken Pieces of a heart could be fixed, then everything can be fixed once you find the right people. The end.

There was one thing true about what my Dad told me once, "Life is like a piano. The white keys show happiness and the black keys show sadness, but as you venture on in life, remember that the black keys also make music." I still have a long fight ahead of me. And this time, I won't sit back and watch everyone turn their backs on me.

"In a way. I think we're all getting broken, one way or another. By choices, by loss, by things outside our control. The question isn't whether you'll get broken. The question is what you let the breaking do to you. Do you let the sharp edges cut everyone who comes near? Or do you find a way to tumble until you're smooth? Until your broken pieces become the most interesting part of you?" I talked then. Not about the foundation, or Alistair Finch, or the pier. I talked about the first time I failed a class in law school. I talked about the terrifying, exhilarating moment I held my son for the first time. I talked about learning to paint badly at sixty-five. I talked about my husband's terribl

“How do you forget the person who taught you how to breathe? How do you un-love someone who is written into your very DNA? If you have the cure for this, Jack, tell me. Because loving him feels like dying in slow motion, and I don't think I have enough of me left to survive another day of it.” Jack looked down at our joined hands, a look of utter defeat on his face. “I have no idea,” he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes, the people we love the most are the ones who are meant to break us, just so we can see what we're made of when we're in pieces.”