Quotes About Loss

Sophia fully and truly thinks she will die. The sound of it is a knife, if a knife could kiss, and the kiss could turn the color of morning... ... Yet it contains a perfection that is twin to pain.

The burnt-off connectors and shadows where Ravan once filled my spaces— those, I think, are the sensations of grief.

I opened my door and everything they had for me was tainted because the land of Used-to-Be is just full of ghosts starving for your breath.

Things that cannot long be kept secret: death in the family, the loss of a ring, corruption of the spirit, boredom, illicit love. Sickness. Addiction. Pregnancy.

The point's not what it costs; it's what it costs you. Everything you have. That's my price, that's my prize, that's my ransom, and that's my rune. The only price in the world that matters is the one that hurts to pay.

There is still a place in me, Masha, where my death once lay. I have a pain there, the way some men feel their legs long after they've been cut off at the knee. It is my pain, and I cannot share it. I would not, even if I could. I will age with you, if it will please you. I will match you, wrinkle for wrinkle, grey hair for grey hair, creak for creak, tumor for tumor. You will be so beautiful when you are old.

Things which are gone in the morning: sleep, darkness, grief, the moon. Women. Dreams.

One is always homesick for places where one came to grief.

I suppose because it's boring to keep telling stories where people just get born and grow up and get married and die. So they add strange things in, to make it interesting when a person is born, more satisfying when they get married, sadder when they die.

Things that cannot long be kept secret: death in the family, the loss of a ring, corruption of the spirit, boredom, illicit love. Sickness. Addiction. Pregnancy. Within the pure white wimple of her beekeeping suit, wrapped in buzzing,

The thing I hate about being dead is you can't move on. I was in love with him when I died, so I'll be in love with him till the sun burns out.

And the heart of Ivan Nikolayevich broke inside the body of Marya Morevna, and the pieces of him lodged deep in her bones, and through the window, the stars watched.

But did you ever ask her?" "Ask her what?" "If she wanted to come back." "Why the hell would I ask her? Nobody wants to be dead. I did the right thing. For us. For her. You were there. It was heroic. I was selfless. I was strong." "Were you? Or could you just … not accept that something pretty was taken from you? Did you know her? Or was she hot and rich and uncomplicated?

I suppose if you have ten children one of them might go into government, which is the same as losing a child really.

The only price in the world that matters is the one that hurts to pay.

For this is the constant sorrow of the dead, that though they drink and eat and dream much as they did before, they know they are dead, and yearn desperately to live again, to feel blood inside them once more, to remember who they were. For the memory of the dead is short, and thought by thought they lose all sense of their former lives until they drift from place to place as shades, their eyes hollow. After a time, they believe they are alive again.

though you can have grief without adventures, you cannot have adventures without grief.

In his own country, Death can be kind. But of an end

He meant to kill me...No, not kill me – make me forget. Forget everything. He said we'd live together in a house of pumpkin and gold – yes, once I couldn't remember why I'd come to Fairyland-Below, or recall Fairyland-Above, or even Omaha and Mother and Father and any reason not to live in Tain and feast every night! How could he? That's as bad as killing, to take away everything a person is.

I opened my fist. Maruchan had stolen lipstick for me. Revlon Super Lustrous 919: Red Ruin, worn almost all the way down to the nub by some dead woman's lips. After that, a lot of years went by but they weren't anything special.

let us hold hands instead of let us hold kitchens. To say put our heads together and not put our parlors together. But it is not as simple as replacing words anymore. Ravan is gone. My hearth is broken.

What the sign meant. To lose your heart. When I go home, I shall leave mine here, and I don't think I shall ever have it back." -September

Ma come facevi ad avere un cuore quando tutti volevano averne un pezzo? E ci riuscivano, finché non te ne restava più niente. Ecco cosa intendeva. Tutti le sbranavano il cuore, come lupi. - Fin

I notice how the relationships I did manage to cling to are starting to fade away. My friends have lives of their own and they move onwards, like a film reel before me.