But then he returned and our life went on. Three days gone. A week. I measured the time in the faint waning of my consciousness of my misery, and wondered if this would one day be enough: simply not to be consciously miserable anymore.

Sue Miller
Some Similar Quotes
  1. No one can usurp the heights... But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest. - John Keats

  2. Misery will not come to the one who does not deceive his own Self. Miseries arise because one deceives one’s own Self. - Dada Bhagwan

  3. Whoever is spared personal pain must feel himself called to help in diminishing the pain of others. We must all carry our share of the misery which lies upon the world. - Albert Schweitzer

  4. I do believe God gave me a spark of genius, but he quenched it in misery. - Edgar Allan Poe

  5. We spent as much money as we could, and got as little for it as people could make up their minds to give us. We were always more or less miserable, and most of our acquaintance were in the same condition. There was a gay... - Charles Dickens

More Quotes By Sue Miller
  1. ...the words make our silences easier--they're the current that runs under them.

  2. But perhaps this is all to the good. Perhaps it’s best to live with the possibility that around any corner, at any time, may come the person who reminds you of your own capacity to surprise yourself, to put at risk everything that’s dear to...

  3. It seems we need someone to know us as we are--with all we have done--and forgive us. We need to tell. We need to be whole in someone's sight: Know this about me, and yet love me. Please....for...others it seems there must be a person...

  4. And I was remembering that time in our lives together, the time of those ritual walks. I was remembering the way it feels at just that moment when you begin to turn, when you’re poised exactly between the things in life you want to do...

  5. This was all of it, no doubt, the strange passing feeling that had come to me in the boat. Age. Vanity. The impossibility of accepting the new versions of oneself that life kept offering. The impossibility of the old version’s vanishing.

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