A Quote by Ray Davies
My girlfriend's packed her bags and moved out to another town, she couldn't stand the boredom when the video broke down.
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During her illness we received bags and bags of anything you can imagine, from get well cards to origami from Japan to medications. The mail lady used to come on a little moped - and she had to rent the mail truck from the town next door because she had to lug these bags to our door with thousands of cards we couldn't even open.
I broke up with my first girlfriend because I was out of love. I was crushing so hard on her for a whole year, and I finally I got to be with her, and the interest vanished. I'm a terrible person. I was 17, and she was in my class.
My first girlfriend broke up with me on a yellow legal pad. After she picked me up from the airport one day, she took out a letter that her therapist wrote, and she read it to me. She and her therapists wrote a letter breaking up with me together.
I have a girlfriend. I give my heart to her. She's around, she's everywhere, we travel together. She's beautiful, she's gorgeous, she's everything you want in a woman. She doesn't complain.. but I can tune her out just enough.
I just broke up with my girlfriend because I caught her lying. Under another man.
That stirring which had fluttered in her on first glimpsing the sea—that stirring landlocked children know so well—moved in her now, with the golden stars over head, and the green fireflies glinting on the wooded shore. She carefully unfolded the stirring that she had so tightly packed away. It billowed out like a sail, and she laughed, despite herself, despite hunger and hard things ahead.
I packed my bags and I moved to Bangkok, Thailand. I spent a year there like completely isolated, no Wi-Fi.
My mom. She was quite a character. Open-minded. It was a very small town, and she started her own business, manufacturing children's wear. She was very dynamic. Her death was like the umbilical cord being cut. That's when I moved to America.
Baba Seva - Seva Efraimovna Gekhtman - was born in a small town in Ukraine in 1919. Her father was an accountant at a textile factory, and her mother was a nurse. Her parents moved to Moscow with her and her brothers when she was a child.
I can remember when I was 24, and I broke up with my first serious girlfriend for the first time. She was a very nice person, but she had a little bit of a tendency toward melodrama... Her response was to take the key to my apartment off of her key chain and hand it back to me.
She wasn't ready to settle down, she told her friends. That was one way of putting it. Another was would have been that she had not found anyone to settle down with. There had been several men in her life, but they hadn't been convincing. They'd been somewhat like her table - quickly acquired, brightened up a little, but temporary. The time for that kind of thing was running out, however. She was tired of renting.
No, books. She would have maybe twenty going at a time, lying all over our house--on the kitchen table, by her bed, the bathroom, our car, her bags, a little stack at the edge of each stair. And she'd use anything she could find for a bookmark. My missing sock, an apple core, her reading glasses, another book, a fork.
I moved from Cleveland to L.A. with a girlfriend, we broke up, and I lived out of my car for a year and a half, on the road with nothing on my mind but getting my act good enough to be on 'The Tonight Show.'
I studied in New York. I fell in love with an Australian-born, half-Filipina girl. So we moved to Australia when she went to her university and I moved with her. We moved to Montreal because she was going to take her year abroad, and I wanted to see if I could keep on writing there. It's really hard to make it as a writer in the Philippines.
A paparazzo once jumped out of a car and started running backward with me. I slowed down out of courtesy because she started drifting into the street. I reached out my hand and moved her back so she didn't get hit by a bus.
... until Miri could not help it any longer and she laughed out loud. The sound broke the game. Peder looked at her. He reached out, and she thought he meant to grab her straw or perhaps yank her hair as he used to when they were little. But her put his hand behind her head and, leaning forward, pulled her face to his. He kissed her. One long, slow kiss.
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