Karin Lechner - my quote collection

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For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: It might have been!

To live alone is the fate of all great souls.
I leave before being left. I decide.
It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.
I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
The trick is to realize that after giving your best, there's nothing more to give.
She [Eleanor Roosevelt] got even in a way that was almost cruel. She forgave them.
Surviving well is your finest revenge.
No more tears now; I will think upon revenge.
The worst thing that one can do is not try, to be aware of what one wants and not give in to it, to spend years in silent hurt wondering if something could have materialized -- and never knowing.
It's a terrible thing to be alone -- yes it is -- it is -- but don't lower your mask until you have another mask prepared beneath --as terrible as you like --but a mask.
Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate.
Hunger, love, pain, fear are some of those inner forces which rule the individual's instinct for self preservation.
To survive it is often necessary to fight and to fight you have to dirty yourself.
I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is over self.
Self-disciplined begins with the mastery of your thoughts. If you don't control what you think, you can't control what you do. Simply, self-discipline enables you to think first and act afterward.
The one who loves least controls the relationship.
Who knows what true loneliness is -- not the conventional word, but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion. Now and then a fatal conjunction of events may lift the veil for an instant. For an instant only. No human being could bear a steady view of moral solitude without going mad.
What torments my soul is its loneliness. The more it expands among friends and the daily habits or pleasures, the more, it seems to me, it flees me and retires into its fortress. The poet who lives in solitude, but who produces much, is the one who enjoys those treasures we bear in our bosom, but which forsake us when we give ourselves to others. When one yields oneself completely to one's soul, it opens itself to one, and then it is that the capricious thing allows one the greatest of good fortunes... that of sympathizing with others, of studying itself, of painting itself constantly in its works.
The head learns new things, but the heart forever practices old experiences.
Partir, c'est mourir un peu. (To leave is to die a little.)
Don't be dismayed at 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.
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.

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