Unforgiven Quotes

Offer it up personally,then. Right now. I thought of how many people go to their graves unforgiven and unforgiving. I thought of how many people have had siblings or friends or children or lovers disappear from their lives before precious words of clemency or absolution could be passed along. How do the survivors of terminated relationships ever endure the pain of unfinished business? From that place of meditation, I found the answer-you can finish the business yourself, from within yourself. It's not only possible, it's essential.

Ed, it was everything, those nights on the phone, everything we said until late became later and then later and very late and finally to go to bed with my ear warm and worn and red from holding the phone close close close so as not to miss a word of what it was, because who cared how tired I was in the humdrum slave drive of our days without each other. I’d ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you, and I did. But that’s why right there it was doomed. We couldn’t only have the magic nights buzzing through the wires. We had to have the days, too, the bright impatient days spoiling everything with their unavoidable schedules, their mandatory times that don’t overlap, their loyal friends who don’t get along, the unforgiven travesties torn from the wall no matter what promises are uttered past midnight, and that's why we broke up.

TO COME HOME TO YOURSELF May all that is unforgiven in you Be released. May your fears yield Their deepest tranquillities. May all that is unlived in you Blossom into a future Graced with love.

You never know how long you have-there might not BE a later-so don't let things go unsaid or unforgiven.

It's a hell of a thing; killin' a man. You take away everything he ever had and ever would have.

It is unfortunate that in most cases when the sins of the father fall on the son it is because unlike God, people refuse to forgive and forget and heap past wrongs upon innocent generations.

Unforgiveness, splinter in your breastbone, lives there lodged like a small tree. Withers in winter, looms in spring. Its fruit is sweet on first bite, then turns into the taste of your own flesh.

THE UNFORGIVEN Tell me if you've ever had to deal with these kinds of people: The kind who take and don't give. The kind to whom you give and give, And they keep asking. The kind to whom you give and give and they say you gave nothing. The kind whom have never offered anything, But act like they're the ones providing EVERYTHING. The kind you give and give, But take more than you can give. And when they have already taken everything, They get mad at you when you say you have Nothing more to give. The unforgiving, The misgiving, Wastefully living - And selfishly driven. The rat that never gives back, Yet is so quick to attack - Because they think the word TAKING Seriously means GIVING.

Berjanjilah untuk tidak meninggalkan aku, apapun yang akan terjadi nanti.” ~Rafael Alexander

I thought of how many people go to their graves unforgiven and unforgiving. I thought of how many people have had siblings or friends or children or lovers disappear from their lives before precious words of clemency or absolution could be passed along. How do the survivors of terminated relationships ever endure the pain of unfinished business?

You don’t fall in love with the person responsible for your greatest loss. And God help you if you do.

Convince me not to hate you because… because hating you is the end of me.

You will always be my world.

Dan apapun yang terjadi nanti. Apapun yang akan terpapar di hadapanmu nanti, bagaimanapun buruknya nanti. Ingatlah malam ini, malam di saat aku mengatakan bahwa aku mencintaimu dengan sepenuh hatiku.” ~Rafael Alexander

Don’t do that. Don’t walk away.

Existence is never so miserable as when you have a taste of something beautiful,” Lucifer said. “It serves to remind you of everything you can never have.

This whole time, I've been in Hell?" She stepped away from Cam, out of the spotlight and into darkness. "Because of you.

Then she was at the bottom, in the filtered light, alone. Black water filled her nose and mouth, her stomach, her lungs. Her soul.

Tatap aku sayang. Lihat aku. Biarpun semuanya hanya kebohongan. Tetapi cintaku padamu itu nyata. Tidak berartikah itu semua kepadamu? Aku membohongimu karena aku mencintaimu, karena aku sangat mencintaimu!" ~Rafael Alexander

I never wanted to hate you. Not ever. You did this.

Or, like the thief of fire from heaven, Wilt thou withstand the shock? And share with him, the unforgiven, His vulture and his rock!

All I wanted was you. I wanted to have you, throw everything else out the window for you. Maybe if I had. Maybe if I’d given in sooner, the fight would have been over.

The only thing separating us from that existence rather than the one we find ourselves in is one small decision. I make wrong decisions every day.

I’m going to marry your brother someday.

You need to understand something. Forgiveness isn’t an emotion. It’s an action, and it’s a choice. It’s the choice to not let the past affect how you feel about her.

Before Cam, music had been an escape, passion, a daydream, love, an impossibility.

You’re going to be happy. I promise.” He kissed her again, and then he said the words she didn’t want to hear. “It’s time.

For every time Luce met Daniel—and she always met Daniel—nothing mattered as much as their love.

Aku berubah menjadi lebih baik, berusaha menjadi lebih baik. Dan aku benar-benar sudah menjadi baik ketika aku bertemu kau.” Rafael menghela tubuh Elena ke arahnya, dan mereka berhadap-hadapan, “Sejak aku mencintaimu.” ~Rafael Alexander

Her skin is cold, and clammy; her eyes are the color of sky, on the grey, wet days that leach the world of color and meaning; her voice is little more than a whisper; and while she has no odor, her shadow smells mucky, and pungent, like the skin of a snake. Many years gone, a sect in what is now Afghanistan declared her a goddess, and proclaimed all empty rooms her sacred places. The sect, whose members called themselves The Unforgiven, persisted for two years, until its last adherent finally killed himself, having survived the other members by almost seven months. Despair says little, and is patient.

What do I do? Tell me because I can’t lose her again.

She does look beautiful, though, doesn't she?' 'The stuff of love songs,' Cam said.

You will always be my world.” His lips trembled as he said the words, and her tears fell. Then he’d kissed her again and turned away. Gone

You might mistake understanding for forgiveness, but if you did, then the unforgiven wrong would catch you off guard, like a cramp, just as you reached for generosity.

Aku memang jahat Elena. Aku... aku tidak pernah bermaksud membohongimu. Aku .... aku hanya takut mengungkapkan semua kebenaran kepadamu, takut kau akan membenciku." ~Rafael Alexander

I’d ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you, and I did. But that’s why right there it was doomed. We couldn’t only have the magic nights buzzing through the wires. We had to have the days, too, the bright impatient days spoiling everything with their unavoidable schedules, their mandatory times that don’t overlap, their loyal friends who don’t get along, the unforgiven travesties torn from the wall no matter what promises are uttered past midnight, and that's why we broke up.

Stay.” “I can’t.” Her voice was hitching. “Why not?” “Because I don’t think you want this for the right reasons.” “I love you. What’s wrong with that reason?” “You don’t love me.” “I. Love. You.” “No! You used to love me.” “I love you still. I love you again. I just love you. I’ve always loved you.” He was speaking passionately, and he wouldn’t release her cheeks. She shook her head. “No.” “Yes. This is not some memory. I’m not reminiscing. I loved you then, and I’ve fallen completely in love with you all over again. Stay. Please. I’m begging you to give me a chance.

T is sweet to win, no matter how, one's laurels, By blood or ink; 't is sweet to put an end To strife; 't is sometimes sweet to have our quarrels, Particularly with a tiresome friend: Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels; Dear is the helpless creature we defend Against the world; and dear the schoolboy spot We ne'er forget, though there we are forgot. But sweeter still than this, than these, than all, Is first and passionate Love—it stands alone, Like Adam's recollection of his fall; The Tree of Knowledge has been plucked—all 's known— And Life yields nothing further to recall Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown, No doubt in fable, as the unforgiven Fire which Prometheus filched for us from Heaven.

The starlight, which seemed strangely bright tonight, wasn't starlight at all. Instead, Lucifer's demons had gathered high in the firmament above. It was their eyes that shone like stars through the wildfire smoke.

Killers could never be forgiven by their victims.

Jangan Elena!" Mata Rafael menyala, "Kau sudah berjanji bahwa kau tidak akan meninggalkanku, seburuk apapun keadaan di antara kita. Kau sudah berjanji kepadaku!" ~Rafael Alexander

I knew you could never forgive me," he said, "so I ran away. I thought I had lost you for good. But then I found this second chance, and I came here to redeem myself. This time with you has shown me that my love for you is bigger than my fear. My love for you is bigger than anything I know." A tear rolled down his cheek. He closed his eyes. He had so much more to say and so little time for it to matter.

She was luminous. Her red hair had been braided a dozen ways, all swirled together in a high shaggy twist. Her eyelids were shimmering green, her lips crimson and matte. She wore black vintage ankle-high motorcycle boots. She was lethal.

...It was everything, those nights on the phone, everything we said until late became later & then later & very late & finally to go to bed with my ear warm & worn & red from holding the phone close, close, close so as not to miss a word of what it was, because who cared how tired I was in the humdrum slave drive of our days without each other? I'd ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you & I did. But that's why right there it was doomed. We couldn't only have the magic nights buzzing through the wires. We had to have the days, too, the bright impatient days spoiling everything with their unavoidable schedules, their mandatory times that don't overlap, their loyal friends who don't get along, the unforgiven travesties torn from the wall no matter what promises are uttered past midnight & that's why we broke up.

Ungrace does its work quietly and lethally, like a poisonous, undetectable gas. A father dies unforgiven. A mother who once carried a child in her own body does not speak to that child for half its life. The toxin steals on, from generation to generation.

When you get everything aligned, when love welcomes the longing, accepts it, learns to live with it, you make love.

I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “Just remember how we used to be. That’s all I want for us right now. Just the two of us. No pain.

I get it. How do you move past something like this? But wouldn’t it be quite a thing if you could?

One that society can't forgive, but I can.

You’re coming over. I want you there. You’re going to be there. End of story.

I’ve loved you forever.” His eyes were dark and serious. “I love you too.

I needed to see you. I thought I could do this . . . without seeing you . . . but I can’t. I’m sorry.

You made me hate the person I was becoming—only because you wanted me to—and for that, you will never be forgiven.

Everyone here felt like they were on the brink of something, when in fact they were only on the brink of the end.

Press Onward! We all make mistakes. It's time we stop dwelling on them and move forward. Ask for forgiveness from others, forgive yourself and then...full steam ahead. Darkness has no greater companion than a self loathing un-forgiven or unforgiving heart. Paul writes in Philippians: "…But one thing I do, forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal..." Press on dear friends for life, love and joy await you! ~Jason Versey

Kalau kau membahayakan Sharin, aku akan melakukannya. Aku lebih mementingkan keselamatan Sharin daripada kebahagiaanku. Kalau dengan menjauhkannya dari diriku dan kau akan membuat Sharin bahagia dan selamat, aku akan melakukannya." ~Darren

Have you forgiven me?' I asked. 'How can I say I have, when I never had anything to forgive?' 'Well then, I must go unforgiven for I cannot forgive myself.' I said. 'O Mrs. Percivale! If you think how the world is flooded with forgiveness, you will just dip in your cup, and take what you want.

I'd ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you, and I did. But that's why right there it was doomed. We couldn't only have the magic nights buzzing though the wires. We had to have the days, too, the bright impatient days spoiling everything with their unavoidable schedules, their mandatory times that don't overlap, their loyal friends who don't get along, the unforgiven travesties torn from the wall no matter what promises are uttered past midnight, and that's why we broke up.

When? How long do you want to put this off? Until I break your heart again? Until I hurt you in some way that not even you can forgive? I don’t think you understand how much it destroys me . . . and yet . . . how hard it is to just let it all go. I don’t have to want to hurt you to do it. It just happens.

His hands grasped her waist and lifted her until she could have sworn that his feet had come off the ground, too; that they were floating up above the creek, above the trees, above the burning hillside, into the dense tangle of stars, about to kiss the moon.

When he pulled out his gun weighted with a meaning I couldn’t quite comprehend, placing it silently in my hand, I understood that my words didn’t matter to a man intent on speaking the language of the unforgiven.

I wouldn’t trade making love to you for anything in the world, but you made the choice to leave for a reason, and you made the right choice. You know that. You deserve better than my anger and hurt and mess. I want you to have better.

I’ve wanted you forever.

I wish you could feel that for me now.

Hindsight is usually more tragic than helpful.

How long’s it been since you’ve been fucked?

We all carry pieces of our journeys within us,” Roland said. “We all learn from our mistakes. Who’s to say we don’t deserve happiness?

Aku dulu bukan orang yang baik, aku menyakiti banyak orang dan membuat mereka kecewa.” Rafael bergumam pelan, tatapannya menerawang jauh, “Tetapi kemudian ada sebuah peristiwa yang menghantamku. Dan membuat aku berbalik arah.” ~Rafael Alexander

It is forgiveness that sets a man working for God. He does not work in order to be forgiven, but because he has been forgiven, and the consciousness of his sin being pardoned makes him long for its entire removal than ever he did before. An unforgiven man cannot work. He has not the will, nor the power, nor the liberty. He is in chains. Israel in Egypt could not serve Jehovah. "Let my people go, that they may serve Me." was God's message to Pharaoh (exodus 8:1) first liberty, then service.

I thought of how many people go to their graves unforgiven and unforgiving. I thought of how many people have had siblings or friends or children or lovers disappear from their lives before precious words of clemency or absolution could be passed along.

Aku bersungguh-sungguh Elena, Pernyataan cintaku itu bukan euphoria dari orgasme yang begitu nikmatnya. Meskipun harus kuakui orgasme yang tadi luar biasa nikmatnya.” Rafael tersenyum lembut, “Semoga nanti kau bisa membalas perasaanku.” ~Rafael Alexander

Lucinda’s wings had been special. They had been purely, stunningly white. Unspoiled. Innocent of the choices the rest of them had made. The only other fallen angel who had preserved his white wings was Daniel.

I want… I want so much to hate you. Do you know what it’s like? Do you have any idea what it’s like to see you, smell you, be near you again, feel your skin? Can you imagine what it is to hate someone so much, and yet…

Sleep.” His face was almost amused, but he seemed a bit too serious to pull it off. “I want to make love to you.” Then as she watched, he released a sigh and he shook his head. “I don’t want to pass it by again. I’ll accept it if I have to, but I refuse to think we could really live a whole life and not have that between us.

The boy had stopped coughing by then. He was petting a little white dog who’d trotted out from the house. “Are you Lilith’s boyfriend?” Cam grinned. “I like this kid.” “Shut up,” Lilith said. “Well, is he?” Bruce asked Lilith. “Because if he’s your boyfriend, he’s going to have to win me over, too. Like with arcade games and ice cream and, like, teaching me to throw a baseball.” “Why stop there?” Cam asked. “I’ll teach you to throw a football, a punch, a poker match, and even”—he glanced at Lilith—“the coolest girl off her game.

The stars are on your face tonight There is no outer space tonight

Lilith blinked, making out what looked like a dark cave at sunset, the sky fiery with streaks of red and orange.

Sicilians never forget and they never forgive. This is a truth you must always keep in mind.

A fallen angel,” Cam corrected her. “And I’m yours.

That which I do not forgive in you, lies unforgiven within myself.

He finally took his harp out of the cobwebs, walked out the door, and admitted who he was: the Unforgiven.

Beneath his exhaustion, he radiated a serenity that suggested nothing in this place could touch him. Maybe nothing in this world could touch him. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. She wanted to be that way, too: at peace with herself, autonomous, free.

Time had taught him that whether his sins were pardoned or left unforgiven, they would remain committed. Tomorrow he would hopefully choose wiser, with a stronger measure of compassion.

He thought about Daniel and Lucinda. They had embodied love for so long, as far as the fallen angels were concerned. He wished they were beside him now, playing the role of the happy couple offering sage advice to their suffering friend.Fight for her, they would tell him. Even when it seems like all is lost, do not give up the fight for love. How had Luce and Daniel done it for so long? It took a strength Cam wasn’t sure he had. The pain when she refused him—and, so far, almost all she did was refuse him—was staggering. And yet he went for it again and again and again. Why? To save her. To help her. Because he loved her. Because if he gave up… He could not give up.

Apakah... apakah kau juga mencintaiku, Elena?" Elena tertegun dengan pertanyaan itu. Jauh di dalam hatinya dia sudah tahu jawabannya. Ya. Dia mencintai Rafael, dia sangat mencintai suaminya ini. Dan Rafael sudah berkali-kali menyatakan mencintai Elena. Amat sangat tidak adil kalau Elena tidak mau mengungkapkan perasaannya kepada suaminya. Mungkin inilah saat yang tepat.... "Ya..." Elena menjawab pelan, jantungnya berdebar, "Ya... Aku juga mencintaimu, Rafael...

Percayalah kepadaku dan jangan hiraukan apa yang dikatakan oleh Luna. Bukankah aku sudah mengatakan kepadamu, bahwa apapapun yang terjadi seburuk apapun yang dikatakan orang, kau bisa pegang satu hal yang pasti, bahwa aku mencintaimu. Amat sangat mencintaimu..." Rafael menundukkan kepala dan mengecupi jemari Elena, "Rasanya sangat sakit, ketika kau mencintai seseorang, tetapi tidak dipercaya. Rasanya seperti cintamu ini sampah dan dibuang begitu saja." ~Rafael Alexander

Why Lilith?” Cam asked. “Do you craft everyone’s Hell this way?” Lucifer smiled. “The dull ones make their own dull hells, fire and brimstone and all that crap. They need no help from me. But Lilith—she’s special. Not that I have to tell you that.

Because the truth was, and we both knew it, he'd gone long, long ago. I'd just made him stick around when he really wanted to be somewhere else. In his own weird way, he was another victim of the shooting, One of the ones who couldn't get away. "Are you mad?" he asked, which I thought was a really strange question. "Yes," I said. And I was. It's just that I wasn't so sure I was mad at him. But I don't think he needed to hear that part. I don't think he wanted to hear that part. I think it was important to him to hear that I cared enough to be angry. "Will you ever forgive me?" he asked. "Will you ever forgive me?" I shot back, leveling my gaze directly into his eyes. He stared into them for a few moments then got up silently and headed for the door. He didn't turn around when he reached it. Just grabbed the doorknob and held it. "No," he said without facing me. "Maybe that makes me a bad parent, but I don't know if I can. No matter what the police found, you were involved in that shooting, Valerie. You wrote those names on that list. You wrote my name on that list. You had a good life here. You might not have pulled the trigger, but you helped cause the tragedy." He opened the door."I'm sorry. I really am." He stepped out into the hallway. "I'll leave my new address and phone number with your mother," he said before walking slowly out of my sight.

The Green Rose by Stewart Stafford Through fractured eyes, I see the rose I once plucked, In another man's hands. And mistakes that cannot be unmade, Sins that must go unforgiven, A resigned reluctance to surrender all hope. Those fingers enwrapping, The slender stem, That only holds spiky thorns for me now. I watch and reminisce, So close and familiar, Yet so alien and barren. I turn and walk away, Leaving the green rose, In place on the grave of what once was. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.

Listen . . . I wasn’t trying to boot you out my door this morning. I wasn’t telling you to get lost. I wasn’t saying I hate you. I wasn’t saying anything.” He shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what this means or what it doesn’t mean. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, and I don’t have a fucking clue how to figure it out. But I’m here, and I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just don’t know how to do this anymore.

Sometimes, it’s easier to withdraw from the reality around you and enjoy the fantasy reality in a fictional novel.

Take my love with you when you go

Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite friend who hates my other friend but wants to bone her anyway and screw up her life because he’s a twisted, disturbed asshole.” He rolled his eyes as he turned to see Michelle stepping into line behind him as he waited for his coffee. “Tell me how you really feel, Shell.” She studied him with a smirk firmly planted on her face for a moment. “Okay. You need to end this thing with her before I have to scoop her lifeless, emotional soul off the highway after you’ve run it down with your Mack truck-sized anger issues.

And that's the end. He passes away under a cloud, inscrutable at heart, forgotten, unforgiven, and excessively romantic. Not in the wildest days of his boyish visions could he have seen the alluring shape of such an extraordinary success! For it may very well be that in the short moment of his last proud and unflinching glance, he had beheld the face of that opportunity which, like an Eastern bride, had come veiled to his side.

Wolfe,” Wolfe said. “I’m Jet’s best friend.” Jethro paused and then just let the moment unfold. “Oliver’s dark eyebrow rose as he also adopted a flat Iowaesque accent. “Jet doesn’t usually have friends.” “I’m special,” Wolfe drawled.

As hard as I fought to hold on to my anger, to continue to hate my dad, the tugging of the good memories eventually found an inroad to my heart. No one is all good or all bad. The reality that my father would forever be a part of me was inescapable. A big part of making peace with myself was rediscovering the good in him and claiming that as my inheritance. The act of forgiving wasn’t like flipping a switch—forgiven . . . unforgiven . . . forgiven . . . unforgiven . . . forgiven.

What’s wrong?” Cam asked. Everything, she wanted to say. The only thing Lilith had ever known was disappointment. Nothing in her life ever worked out. Which, for the most part, was okay, because she never let herself expect anything, so she never really cared.

have been supposing that God loves everyone and wants to show mercy on all. Indeed, I have hinted that I believe that if God did not love and try to save everyone, he would be less than perfect. Calvinists will not agree to this. God has to be just, they maintain, but he does not have to be merciful. He has to punish unforgiven sin, but he does not have to forgive sin. This is a common view among theologians, but it ought to be seen as problematic for a Christian view of God. To subordinate divine love to divine justice so that God has to be just but does not have to love is odd for a Christian who confesses that God is love.

He pulled his mouth from hers, holding her face inches from his with a hand to each cheek, and he froze, panting. She was the center of his universe whether he wanted her to be or not, and at the moment, he so completely wanted her to be. He’d needed this, he’d dreamed of it, fantasized about it, obsessed about making love to her, and he was buried balls-deep inside the only woman he’d ever been so completely in love with.

In the Naked Bed, in Plato’s Cave In the naked bed, in Plato’s cave, Reflected headlights slowly slid the wall, Carpenters hammered under the shaded window, Wind troubled the window curtains all night long, A fleet of trucks strained uphill, grinding, Their freights covered, as usual. The ceiling lightened again, the slanting diagram Slid slowly forth. Hearing the milkman’s chop, His striving up the stair, the bottle’s chink, I rose from bed, lit a cigarette, And walked to the window. The stony street Displayed the stillness in which buildings stand, The street-lamp’s vigil and the horse’s patience. The winter sky’s pure capital Turned me back to bed with exhausted eyes. Strangeness grew in the motionless air. The loose Film grayed. Shaking wagons, hooves’ waterfalls, Sounded far off, increasing, louder and nearer. A car coughed, starting. Morning, softly Melting the air, lifted the half-covered chair From underseas, kindled the looking-glass, Distinguished the dresser and the white wall. The bird called tentatively, whistled, called, Bubbled and whistled, so! Perplexed, still wet With sleep, affectionate, hungry and cold. So, so, O son of man, the ignorant night, the travail Of early morning, the mystery of beginning Again and again, while History is unforgiven.