# The Longest Ride

- Author: [Nicholas Sparks](https://www.leafyquotes.com/nicholas-sparks.md)
- Quotes: 18
- Book page: https://www.leafyquotes.com/nicholas-sparks/the-longest-ride

## Quotes

> A truth emerges in any long marriage, and the truth is this: Our spouses sometimes know us better than we even know ourselves.

p. 325

> [Written on back of photograph of Ruth and Daniel]
>
> "Ruth LevinsonThird grade teacher.She believes in me and I can be anything I want when I grow up.I can even change the world."

p. 335

> "I wish I had the talent to paint the way I feel about you, for my words always feel inadequate. I imagine using red for your passion and pale blue for your kindness; forest green to reflect the depth of your empathy and bright yellow for your unflagging optimism. And still I wonder: can even an artist's palette capture the full range of what you mean to me?"

p. 326

> "My plea to you is this: despite your sadness, do not forget how happy you have made me; do not forget that I loved a man who loved me in return, and this was the greatest gift I could ever hope to receive."

p. 328

> "'If there is a heaven, we will find each other again, for there is no heaven without you.'"

p. 341

> The words nearly break my heart, and I feel something crumble inside me. The truth is often a terrible thing, and I wish again that I were someone else. But it is too late now, too late to change anything. I am old and alone and I'm dying a little more with each passing hour. I'm tired, more tired than I've ever been.

p. 80

> "It was the way you looked at me while I looked at the art that changed me. It is you, in other words, who changed."

p. 199

> I had never dreamed of being a soldier; I had never fired a gun. I was not, nor ever had been, a fighter of any sort, but even so, I loved my country, and I spent much of that year trying to imagine a future distorted by war.

p. 74

> "You are a smart man, Ira, but sometimes I think you do not understand women very well."

p. 267

> As much as I love her, I admit that she has always remained somewhat of an enigma to me...I liked this about her. I liked the mystery she added to my life. I liked the occasional silence between us, for ours was a comfortable silence. It was a passionate silence, one that had its roots in comfort and desire.

p. 222

> "As your father used to say, we shared the longest ride together, this thing called life, and mine has been filled with joy because of you."

p. 78

> I sometimes think to myself that I’m the last of my kind.

p. 1

> My marriage brought great happiness into my life, but lately there's been nothing but sadness. I understand that love and tragedy go hand in hand, for there can't be one without the other, but nonetheless I find myself wondering whether the tradeoff is fair. A man should die as he had lived, I think; in his final moments, he should be surrounded and comforted by those he's always loved.

p. 237

> I was not meant to be alone. I am not good at it. The years since Ruth's passing have ticked by with the kind of desparate silence known only to the elderly. It is a silence underscored by loneliness and the knowledge that the good years are already in the past, coupled with the complications of old age itself.The body is not meant to survive nearly a century. I speak from experience when I say this...

p. 320

> "What's your horse's name?""Horse.""Sophia waited for the joke, but it didn't come. "You call your horse 'Horse'?""He doesn't mind.""You should give him a noble name. Like Prince or Chief or something.""It might confuse him now.""Trust me. Anything is better than Horse. It's like naming a dog Dog.""I have a dog named Dog. Australian Cattle Dog." He turned, his expression utterly matter-of-fact. "Great herder.""And your mom didn't complain?""My mom named him."

p. 64

> While she was exceptional, I was average, a man whose major accomplishment in life was to love her without reservation, and that would never change.

p. 187

> In this world, after all, I've become more or less invisible...I've become what the young are afraid of becoming, just another member of the nameless elderly, an old and broken man with nothing left to offer to this world.My days are inconsequential, comprising simple moments and even simpler pleasures. I eat and sleep and think of Ruth; I wander the house and stare the the paintings, and in the mornings, I feed the pigeons that gather in my backyard.

p. 234

> His voice, even now, follows me everywhere on this longest of rides, this thing called life.

p. 2