Quotes About Lost

Should I get lost, just point me in the direction of a poem.

When you are lost in the right way, you don't go back to being found in the wrong way.

I'm happy to stick with my persona. There are themes of love lost and love regained, but the main themes of all poems are basically love and death, and that seems to be the message of poetry.

If I were in politics, and if you ever get me in the White House, trust me, there's a big change coming. What happened to America? We lost our roots.

The Church should be more concerned about the hearts of the lost rather than the comforts of the saved.

Journey leading to just an end is better lost on the way. Who knows you would explore the real destination.

First came him, then came I, then he came again and then I was lost forever.

Without vision, a church devolves into a lukewarm, aimless organization characterized by infighting, budget grabbing and a dead heart for the lost.

I can't say I was ever lost but I was bewildered once for three days.

I have a need of silence and of stars. Too much is said too loudly. I am dazed. The silken sound of whirled infinity Is lost in voices shouting to be heard…

The trouble in modern democracy is that men do not approach to leadership 'til they have lost the desire to lead anyone.

Does the imagination dwell the most Upon a woman won or a woman lost?

All explorers are seeking something they have lost. It is seldom that they find it, and more seldom still that the attainment brings them greater happiness than the quest.

The cream of a generation was lost in the mud of Flanders. Etonians went over the top with the Illiad in their knapsacks and Athens in their hearts. To protest that such men were statistically not even a trace among the British soldiers killed is to miss the point. At all times the great majority of people have been ignorant of the classics; but the men who mattered; who governed, declared wars and resisted innovation have always had Latin and Greek.

Songs about death and lost love and rambling down the line because sometimes down the line was the only place left.

She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien's theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can't move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage.

I don't know what the game was. I only know its name; they call it life. I'm not sure how it should be played. No one ever told me. No one ever tells anybody. I only know we must have played it wrong. We broke some rule or other along the way, and never knew it at the time. I don't know what the stakes are. I only know we've forfeited them, they're not for us. We've lost. That's all I know. We've lost, we've lost.

There was somebody screaming somewhere, and she kept wondering who it could be. She turned to the people who watched her and said in a lost, chiding voice, "Quit screaming, please! Screaming doesn't help!" She closed her eyes and leaned against the fence; and then she knew the person screaming was herself.

But an innocent conviction of grace, once lost, cannot easily be regained.

My whole soul was unspeakably bewildered and lost in myself and I knew of nothing that seemed likely to make me happy, in case I could with the greatest ease have obtained the best good that I had any conception of. And being that lost I became a suitable object for the compassion of Jesus Christ to be set upon, since he came to "seek and to save that which is lost.

To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned," "Gentlemen-Rankers," Barrack Room Ballads by Rudyard Kipling

I trust you have seen the ocean. If you have, then you have witnessed the divine. How barren the ground is in comparison! If I could count the hours I have spent staring out at it! And yet those hours never feel lost. I cannot imagine how else I could refill them were I given a second chance.

cela faisait si longtemps qu'ils n'avaient pas passé du temps ensemble, comme ça, sans but, marcher un peu et tenter de se perdre.

I tend to stumble through life as if lost in a deep forest with an out-of-date map that I can't figure out how to fold. The trees all look familiar, animals are making scary sounds in the bushes and the sandwich in my bag isn't what I ordered. No doubt I'm not alone in this.