Quotes About Closure

I hated missing the end of anything. I was always convinced that the bit I'd miss would be the best part.

A person who hasn't grieved a significant loss has unfinished business inside and can cause others great grief as a result.

Oh, I know all about my mother and me,' you may say. 'All that business with my mother was over years ago.' You don't and it wasn't.

We feel that we have to be right so that we can feel good... The whole right and wrong business closes us down and makes our world smaller.

My dad died when I was 23. His death was sudden and shocking - the result of a car crash - and I never got to say goodbye.

Someday, I knew, I would have to forget. But I would never forgive.

Epwo m-baa pokin in-gitin'got (Everything has an end.)

it didn't have a real ending. It just slipped backward when other things happened.

It is over, isn't it?" Trustingly, he seemed to be waiting for her to tell him, as if she would know. As if hearing himself say it meant nothing; he had a dubious attitude toward his own words; they didn't become real, not until she agreed. "It's over," she said.

when all the openings were closed, then the worlds would all be restored to their proper relations with one another, Lyra's Oxford and Will's would lie over each other again, like transparent images on two sheets of film being moved closer and closer until they merged–although they would never truly touch.

Oak bark, spider silk, ground moss, saltweed— grip close, bind tight, hold fast, close up, bar the door, lock the gate, stiffen the blood-wall, dry the gore-flood.

Jill, the time's come. They're going to close us down. Tell all the Heads of Section that Christabel is now in operation.

One future would close for ever as the other began to unfold.

Noche que contemplas ceñuda este refulgente desierto, deja que salga tu luna mientras cierro los ojos. William Blake

The end is so immense, it is its own poetry. It requires little rhetoric. Just state it plainly.

It was the end of all understanding.

Mom says that the music is my way of trying to get close to Dad. But she's wrong. The music isn't my way of getting close to Dad or anyone. It's my way of getting away from both of them and going somewhere else. Someplace where things always resolve in the final eight bars.

Dear Leonard. To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away. Leonard, always the years between us, always the years. Always the love. Always the hours.

The properties of an object are automatically exposed, whereas the variables in a closure are automatically hidden.

Answerless questions can destroy you. Move on.

When is a night over? Is it the start of sunrise or the end of it? Is it when you finally go to sleep or simply realize that you have to? When the club closes or when you everyone leaves? It's over when you decide it's over, she says. When you call it a night. The rest is just a matter of where the sun is in the sky.

I say good-bye to the part of myself that misses him so much.

Game over, you say, and I don't know which I take more exception to-- the fact that you say its over, or the fact that you say it's a game.

There's no way to release yourself from a memory. It ends when it wants to end, whether it's in a flash or long after you've begged it to stop.