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The bad part is life continues. The good part is that the pain goes away.

Mary Balogh

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Mary Balogh
Age: 80
Born: 1944
Born: March 24
Novelist
Writer
Abertawe
Part
Good
Life
Continues
Goes
Pain
Away

More quotes by Mary Balogh

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Was memory always as much of a burden as it could sometimes be a blessing.
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But a mother-son relationship is not a coequal one, is it? He is lonely with only you just as you are lonely with only him.
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Why do I want to run from happiness?
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Have you noticed, she asked him, how we live much of our lives in the past and most of the rest of it in the future? Have you noticed how often the present moment slips by quiet unnoticed?
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I can be hurt, she said, only by people I respect.
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I have read somewhere that we often spend a lifetime searching for what we already have.
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There is something infinitely better than happily-ever-after. There is happiness. Happiness is a living, dynamic thing, Eve, and has to be worked on every moment for the rest of our lives. It is a far more exciting prospect than that silly static idea of a happily-ever-after. Would you not agree? - Aidan Bedwyn
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Every moment is a moment of decision, and every moment turns us inexorably in the direction of the rest of our lives.
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There had to be a reason why they were not going to marry. They had both been so adamant about it. What the devil was the reason?
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Sometimes now was enough. Sometimes it was everything.
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Tears never were worth the effort of crying them.
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If you have always suspected your sister of an inclination to madness, it will be my pleasure to confirm your worst fears.
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One day you will learn that love does not always betray you.
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Life, she realized, so often became a determined, relentless avoidance of pain-of one's own, of other people's. But sometimes pain had to be acknowledged and even touched so that one could move into it and through it and past it. Or else be destroyed by it.
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Suddenly, and for the first time, he was at the center of his own life, living it and loving it.
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I would be consumed by you,' she said, and blinked her eyes furiously when she felt them fill with tears. 'You would sap all the energy and all the joy from me. You would put out all the fire of my vitality.' 'Give me a chance to fan the flames of that fire,' he said, 'and to nurture your joy.
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There is nothing worse, is there, she said, than a past that has never been fully dealt with. One can convince oneself, that it is all safely in the past and forgotten about, but the very fact that we can tell ourselves that it is forgotten proves that it is not.
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He wished someone in the course of history had thought of striking that word and all its derivatives from the English Language - happy, happier, happiest, happiness. What the devil did the words really mean anyway? Why not just the word pleasure, which was far more... well, pleasant.
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But parents, she supposed, were not the pinnacle of perfection their children thought or expected them to be. They were humans who usually did the best they could but often made the wrong choices.
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Even friends need private spaces, if only within the depths of their own souls, where no one else is allowed to intrude.
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