Suzy Menkes Quotes

I'd think the house was the source of great sadness or pressure. I knew it wasn't. I knew it was just where I lived. But I'd walk up the stairs and the second floor was just desolate. My old bedroom: empty. My old rehearsal room: empty. First floor studio: messy and empty. Middle room: broken gear everywhere.

The clothes are packed off to Goodwill I said my good-byes up on the hill The house is empty, the furniture sold Soon your smell will decay to mold Don't know why I bother calling, ain't nobody answering Don't know why I bother singing, ain't nobody listening "Disconnect" Collateral Damage, Track 10

The delta blues is a low-down, dirty shame blues. It's a sad, big wide sound, something to make you think about people who are dead or the women who left you.

I'm incredibly sad that my mother's not here to see my kids and that my kids don't get to know her. And she didn't meet my husband. That's one of the hardest things. I don't even know how to put that into words.

There are things you're supposed to learn in life. My biggest regret was terminating a pregnancy when I was about 18. Every day, I think about who that baby would be now; it still makes me sad.

Dying is only one thing to be sad over... Living unhappily is something else.

There's a lot of days where you feel forgotten.

Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless!

Maybe I should quit the business. There's no one left for me to love. Mama's dead. Mr. Burns couldn't care less about me. What's left?

It's a source of great sadness to me that my father died without having seen me do anything worthwhile. He was constantly having to make excuses for me.

There are moments when the grief comes bubbling up. The first time I saw Chris's chair empty, that was really hard. And it was hard when I started folding up some of his sweaters that I so imagine him wearing.

It is very painful to talk about my dear friend Rishi Kapoor in 'past tense.'

When I left Yale, it was so painful to me. I had worked so hard, gotten so far, and just walked away.

Eventually, everything gets stuck between a pair of parentheses or buried in the bottom of a trunk.

Please, don't go. It's lonely. There's a hole in my head as big as the world and it's so very lonely.

Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp'd no more - Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day.

First, I emptied the closets of your clothes, threw out the bowl of fruit, bruised from your touch, left empty the jars you bought for preserves. The next morning, birds rustled the fruit trees, and later when I twisted a ripe fig loose from its stem, I found it half eaten, the other side already rotting, or-like another I plucked and split open-being taken from the inside: a swarm of insects hollowing it. I'm too late, again, another space emptied by loss. Tomorrow, the bowl I have yet to fill.

There is a sad disconnectedness that overcomes a library when its owner is gone.

So I walked away and left him standing there in the moonlight - watching over nothing.

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, / Shaped to the comfort of the last to go / As if to win them back

How sad it must be for you to be nothing more than a hollow statue, to have your tomb preserved and your story forgotten.

And nothing to look backward to with pride, and nothing to look forward to with hope.

Johnny, can't you come out to play in your empty garden?

Wine is a sign of happiness, love and plenty, how many of our adolescents and young people sense that these are no longer found in their homes? How many women, sad and lonely, wonder when love left, when it slipped away from their lives? How many elderly people feel left out of family celebrations, cast aside and longing each day for a little love?

Our house is like an empty cigarette packet, lying around reminding you what's not in it.