Quotes About Loss

Before the Flowers of Friendship Faded Friendship Faded.

[Of Oakland, California:] There is no there there.

Tengo que irme, me dije, ya he perdido demasiado tiempo entre los muertos, fingiéndome muerto, olvidándome de la ironía.

We never set eyes on Fatima or our dog or the city we had known ever again. Like a body prematurely buried, unmourned withpot coffin or ceremony, our hasty untidy exit from Jerusalem was no way to have said goodbye to our home, our country and all that we knew and loved.

From that moment our love became sad, and sadness is a disease which gives the death-blow to affection.

Every day we lose something; one of the illusions, which are our only riches, perishes or diminishes. Experience or truth divests us every day of part of our possessions. We do not live, except in losing.

Ci si affeziona anche al dolore, persino alla disperazione. Quando abbiamo sofferto moltissimo per una persona, il fatto che il dolore stia passando ci sgomenta. Crediamo significhi, una volta in più, che tutto, veramente tutto, finisce.

God is great! In times of pain, He gives power. In times of sickness, He provides healing and after a loss, He is able to restore what was lost.

Nanny had thought she might lose the child from her grief. At night when she rolled over in the bed and went to drape her leg across Gabriel's, finding him gone, the ache in Nanny's chest moved up to her throat, then down to her womb.

How cruel that she had really seen him, touched him. That he had been real, not another phantasm drifting greyly among the trees, a little gasp of loneliness from her afflicted mind. But a beautiful face, and a voice not merely familiar but in her bones. The Ridgerunner was gone, and she could still smell him on her hands.

But everything is remembered by its moment of greatest intensity. Dying was hers.

You know, that's all basketball is. If someone loves something, and you take it away, it's like what does he do now? What does someone do? That's what happened with me.

Joshua was trembling, for he knew what lay before him, and he wanted to cry out and run after the man who had been his master for so many years. But he knew he must not. At last the figure disappeared in the distance so that even the keenest-eyed Israelite could not see him. And then Joshua turned to Caleb, tears streaming down his face. "Never again," he whispered, "will we see a man like Moses!

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me that only tragedy is to allow part of us to die—whether it is our spirit, our creativity, or our glorious uniqueness.

We cried for what we'd lost: people and time, as well as for what we'd gained: knowledge and truth.

The next week passed in a haze of mourning, as thick and disorienting as the unrelenting fog that crept over the stones of Venice each morning.

grief is not a thing that ends. Sometimes, though, it cracks us open and exposes the places we've hidden, and that can be a kind of gift.

If anyone asked either of us, we would say that we have a beautiful, happy family, and in so, so many regards we would be telling the truth. But it's what isn't on the page—what resides in the white spaces between words—that tells our story of things lost.

When you are keeping a secret from someone, and that person dies, the secret becomes impossible to dislodge from inside you.

When somebody dies thinking you are someone you haven't been in years—someone you maybe never were to begin with—what parts of your identity, real and constructed, do the dead take with them?

There is so much more to my father's life and death than how it impacted, reflected on, or revealed me.

I miss her more with every passing day because, just as words once written can never be unwritten, grief is not a thing that ends. Sometimes, though, it cracks us open and exposes the places we've hidden, and that can be a kind of gift.

the most real presence of all is the abscence of those we love.

it's an even bargain -one in which we both lose.