Maybe the swing will slow down and you'll hear,
In my words, don't say goodbye, but come back.
Mélancolique nuit des chevelures sombres,
A quoi bon s'attarder dans ton enivrement,
Si, comme dans la mort, nul ne peut sous tes ombres
Se plonger éternellement?
How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night and night by day oppressed;
And each (though enemies to either's reign)
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day to please him thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;
So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even:
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make griefs' strength seem stronger.
— Hello, Deborah. Aren't you gonna say anything?
— What is someone supposed to say after more than 30 years.
— Well, how about, «How you doing? You're looking good». Or, «I was hoping I'd never see you again».
— I never thought I would. There's a difference.
Souriront quand je passerai
Je ne saurai plus où me mettre
Tu seras loin Je pleurerai
J’en mourrai peut-être
— My ex-husband sort of screwed up my relationship awareness barometer.
— You're divorced.
— That's a nice way of putting it. I call it being dumped.
— I was dumped once.
— Don't you just constantly question your value? Like, why was I so easy to cast aside?
— And you wonder if the other party is gonna come to their senses and call you back.
— And they always tell you it'll hurt less with time.
— When actually it hurts more.
— You know what we need?
— What do we need?
— We need drinks. We need a lot of drinks.
My life closed twice before its close;
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.
When you spend your life with someone and they start to die and you feel this terrible, terrible... severing.
Why she had to go? I don't know, she wouldn't say,
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.
— Ah, me. Young love. Oh, it's a grand thing!
— Oh, Klucky, surely he must know how much I still love him.
— But, of course, my dear. Believe me, someday soon, your uncle, King Richard, will have an outlaw for an in-law.
— Oh, Klucky. But when? When?
— Oh, patience, my dear. Patience. Remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder.