Give the gift of your absence to those who do not appreciate your presence.
She went her unremembering way, She went and left in me The pang of all the partings gone, And partings yet to be.
Distance – the only thing the rich are willing for the poor to call theirs, and keep.
The logs of wood which move down the river together Are driven apart by every wave. Such inevitable parting Should not be the cause of misery.
Parting is worse than death; it is death of love!
What! gone without a word? ay, so true love should do; it cannot speak, for truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.
Absence in love is like water upon fire; a little quickens, but much extinguishes it.
Absence from those we love is self from self – a deadly banishment.
Let no one be willing to speak ill of the absent.
Let us not be dainty of leave-taking, But shift away.