Quotes About Loss

Panting to help the dear ones and yet not knowing how, lest any voice bereave them... One who only said "I am sorry" helped me the most when father ceased — it was too soon for language.

Grief cries and life shines on — and hope paints a rainbow.

It was only a few months after their father's death. His loss had left a wound in Darlene's chest that felt physical, a perpetual ache.

For the past three months, Darlene had waited for the fact of her father's death to reach every corner of her mind. She had been through this process when Mama died; she knew how it would unfold. Right now, each morning was its own little funeral. She would wake up and listen for Daddy's footsteps, sniff the air for his pipe smoke, open her eyes, and remember. Every morning she lost him...

When Heaven has taken from us some object of our love, how sweet is it to have a bosom whereon to recline our heads, and into which we may pour the torrent of our tears! Grief, with such a comfort, is almost a luxury!

The ocean has its ebbings — so has grief.

Grief is a burden but also a friend— It is not grief that wounds your heart but it is grief that heals your heart.

There is no timetable for grieving — Grief is a snail It's a shooting star A walk around the lake It's eternity Or frost 'til bloom — Memories coursing through the heart It lasts as many heartbeats as it takes; sometimes all of them.

New Grief awakens the old.

There's a curious thing about pain or hardship. In the beginning, it's an enemy, it's something that you don't want to face or think about or deal with. Yet with time it becomes almost a friend. If you've lost someone you love very much, in the beginning you can't bear it, but as the years go by, the pain of losing them is what reminds you so vividly of them — that they were alive.

That grief will go on, but the love goes on too.

Healing from grief is allowing the courage and purpose within you and the love someone else left you, to merge and create a new sense of being.

Grief is historian of the heart.

Grief bores holes in our hearts & heads like a woodpecker — peck peck peck — knock knock knock You can't make it stop Eventually it flies away — but leaves pits that never fully heal

Grief is a haunted lake that's all too easy to drown in.

A friend dies or leaves us: we feel as if a limb was cut off.

Grief cries pain and sighs love.

There was nothing to do for that kind of loss — no solution to it, no medicine for it. You just coped as best you could. The ache was dull but profound, like the unanswered call of a lonely coyote.

Love stabs at loss with pangs of past happiness.

Grief moves at its own pace.

Grief is processing what's been taken from you, what's still within you, and all the blessings and memories left behind by the one you're grieving.

Grief is a species of idleness.

So long as we can lose any happiness we possess some; and it is the truth that most people possess more than they realize, for we know how pathetically often loss reveals what a great quantity has been possessed but not realized.

Grief counts the seconds: happiness forgets the hours.