Cute but sad love quotes?

I love quotes and I was just wondering if you had any sad love quotes or heartbreak quotes...


11 Answers

  • Favorite Answer

    my mom told me i can be anything i want a doctor,dentist,(list any job you want too lol) but she lied i can't be his girl</3

  • 4 years ago

    It's not really about love but.. "I wish I could take the pain away If you can make it through the night theres a brighter day. Everything will be alright if you hold on It's a struggle everyday gotta roll on"

  • 1 decade ago

    Here is one:

    Love Is Like Quicksand:

    The Deeper You Fall In It The Harder It Is To Get Out

  • 1 decade ago

    Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.

  • How do you think about the answers? You can sign in to vote the answer.
  • Pariah
    Lv 5
    1 decade ago

    1)Blue moon,you saw me standing alone,without a dream in my heart,without a love of my own.

    2)drifting on a sea of forgotten teardrops,on a lifeboat sailing for your love.

    3)Did you ever see a robin weep when leaves begin to die?

    Like me,he's lost the will to live,I'm so lonely i could cry.

    4)there's a light in my eyes,its to bright to see,and a pain in my heart where you used to be.

    5)take a walk outside your mind,and tell me how it feels to be the one who turns the knife inside me.

    6)i never seen a night so long when time goes crawling by,the moon just went behind the cloud to hide its face and cry.

    Source(s): a broken heart guy
  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    I just want you to be happy...(when you're girlfriend likes another guy)

  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    love stinks

  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    I think that these are the saddest

    For of all sad words of tongue or pen,

    The saddest are these: `It might have been!`

    from the poem below

    Maud Muller - John Greenleaf Whittier

    Maud Muller on a summer`s day

    Raked the meadow sweet with hay.

    Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth

    Of simple beauty and rustic health.

    Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee

    The mock-bird echoed from his tree.

    But when she glanced to the far-off town,

    White from its hill-slope looking down,

    The sweet song died, and a vague unrest

    And a nameless longing filled her breast, -

    A wish that she hardly dared to own,

    For something better than she had known.

    The Judge rode slowly down the lane,

    Smoothing his horse`s chestnut mane.

    He drew his bridle in the shade

    Of the apple-trees, to greet the maid,

    And asked a draught from the spring that flowed

    Through the meadow across the road.

    She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up,

    And filled for him her small tin cup,

    And blushed as she gave it, looking down

    On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown.

    `Thanks! said the Judge; `a sweeter draught

    From a fairer hand was never quaffed.`

    He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees,

    Of the singing birds and the humming bees;

    Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether

    The cloud in the west would bring foul weather.

    And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown,

    And her graceful ankles bare and brown;

    And listened, while a pleased surprise

    Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes.

    At last, like one who for delay

    Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away.

    Maud Muller looked and sighed: `Ah me!

    That I the Judge`s bride might be!

    `He would dress me up in silks so fine,

    And praise and toast me at his wine.

    `My father should wear a broadcloth coat;

    My brother should sail a painted boat.

    `I`d dress my mother so grand and gay,

    And the baby should have a new toy each day.

    `And I`d feed the hungry and clothe the poor,

    And all should bless me who left our door.`

    The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill

    And saw Maud Muller standing still.

    `A form more fair, a face more sweet,

    Ne`er hath it been my lot to meet.

    `And her modest answer and graceful air

    Show her wise and good as she is fair.

    `Would she were mine, and I to-day,

    Like her, a harvester of hay;

    `No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs,

    Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues,

    `But low of cattle and song of birds,

    And health and quiet and loving words.`

    But he thought of his sisters, proud and cold,

    And his mother, vain of her rank and gold.

    So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on,

    And Maud was left in the field alone.

    But the lawyers smiled that afternoon,

    When he hummed in court an old love-tune;

    And the young girl mused beside the well

    Till the rain on the unraked clover fell.

    He wedded a wife of richest dower,

    Who lived for fashion, as he for power.

    Yet oft, in his marble hearth`s bright glow,

    He watched a picture come and go;

    And sweet Maud Muller`s hazel eyes

    Looked out in their innocent surprise.

    Oft, when the wine in his glass was red,

    He longed for the wayside well instead;

    And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms

    To dream of meadows and clover-blooms.

    And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain,

    `Ah, that I were free again!

    `Free as when I rode that day,

    Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay.`

    She wedded a man unlearned and poor,

    And many children played round her door.

    But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain,

    Left their traces on heart and brain.

    And oft, when the summer sun shone hot

    On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot,

    And she heard the little spring brook fall

    Over the roadside, through the wall,

    In the shade of the apple-tree again

    She saw a rider draw his rein;

    And, gazing down with timid grace,

    She felt his pleased eyes read her face.

    Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls

    Stretched away into stately halls;

    The weary wheel to a spinnet turned,

    The tallow candle an astral burned,

    And for him who sat by the chimney lug,

    Dozing and grumbling o`er pipe and mug,

    A manly form at her side she saw,

    And joy was duty and love was law.

    Then she took up her burden of life again,

    Saying only, `It might have been.`

    Alas for maiden, alas for Judge,

    For rich repiner and household drudge!

    God pity them both! and pity us all,

    Who vainly the dreams of youth recall.

    For of all sad words of tongue or pen,

    The saddest are these: `It might have been!`

    Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies

    Deeply buried from human eyes;

    And, in the hereafter, angels may

    Roll the stone from its grave away!

  • Anonymous
    1 decade ago

    You could Google those. ;)

  • Idk
    Lv 4
    1 decade ago

    "Love is a *****"

Still have questions? Get your answers by asking now.