Lonely nights Quotes

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Single life is the best life until you get hit by lonely nights.

Jonathan Anthony Burkett
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The endless ocean was his sole companion , and on some deeply sentimental level, it seemed sufficient. Almost apt. He aligned himself with Thoreau and Tolstoy, he felt like their peers. The kinship with nature devoted humans to a mythical state, a heightened persona beyond the reach of mere mortals. At least that was what he told himself on the lonely nights when insomnia played on his fears and the howling wind pierced through his soul.

Adelheid Manefeldt, Consequence
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JAMIE'S SONG 'Million Years/Billion Deaths':Every beat of my heart says,‘Who’d wanna be a heart?’Every cell in my body,Wants to split apart.Though I know I have to be strong.And I’m sure I won’t have to wait long.But when each day lasts forever,And when every night lasts much longer,Tell me how am I supposed to go on?But if each moment with you,Lasts as long as these lonely nights do,Then I’d wait a million years for you.Yes, I’ll wait a million years for you.And I’ll die a billion deaths to get to you.To get to you…Every breath I take whispers,‘Who’d wanna be in love?’Every vein in my body,Has bled dry, my love.Though I know I have to be strong.And I’m sure I won’t have to wait long.But when each day lasts forever,And when every night lasts much longer,Tell me how am I supposed to go on?But if each moment with you,Lasts as long as these lonely nights do,Then I’d wait a million years for you.Yes, I’ll wait a million years for you.And I’ll die a billion deaths to get to you.To get to you…

Neha Yazmin, Someone Like You
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The heart makes its choices without weighing the consequences. It doesn't look ahead to the lonely nights that follow.

Tess Gerritsen, Keeping The Dead
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Fate. As a child, that word was often my only companion. It whispered to me from dark corners during lonely nights. It was the song of the birds in spring and the call of the wind through bare branches on a cold winter afternoon. Fate. Both my anguish and my solace. My escort and my cage.

Leslye Walton, The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender
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Dear Beloved woman,Time… so much time has passed since my love wrote his last words for me.And yet I remember it as if it were yesterday. I remember writing back and for the first time since I had left home I told my love what kind of darkness surrounded me here. I forgot all the sweet things my father had said to my mother when he was away. I forgot how they got her through all those long and lonely nights.

Talon P.S., Dear Soldier, With Love
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Ryan allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight of her legs, long and muscular and indicative of her previous life as a dancer.Off-limits nannies shouldn't be allowed to have legs like that. A man could only get through so many lonely nights before he started to dream of sleek limbs wrapping around him and never letting go.Thankfully for them both, she lifted those sleek limbs away from his grasp. Out of reach, out of mind.Or at least in theory, anyway.

Tamara Morgan, If I Stay
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Life is made of moments. and choices. Not all of them matter, or have any lasting impact. Skipping class in favor of a taste of freedom, picking a prom dress because of the way it transforms you into a princess in the mirror. Even the nights you steal away from an open window, tiptoe silent to the end of the driveway, where darkened headlights and the pull of something unknown beckon. These are all small choices, really. Insignificant as soon as they’re made. Innocent.But then.Then there’s a different kind of moment. One when things are irrevocably changed by a choice we make. A moment we will play endlessly in our minds on lonely nights and empty days. One we’ll search repeatedly for some indication that what we chose was right, some small sign that tells us the truth isn’t nearly as awful as it feels. Or as awful as anyone would think if they knew.So we explain it to ourselves, justify it enough to sleep. And then we bury it deep, so deep we can almost pretend it never happened. But as much as we wish it were different, the truth is, our worlds are sometimes balanced on choices we make and the secrets we keep.

Jessi Kirby, Golden
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