Quotes About Loss

y estamos sin control ni salvación ni dirección ni escapatoria, y estamos muertos.

The faster the dead could be honored, the faster they could be forgotten.

It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or die. On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone will drop to zero.

Neptej se, jestli se mi poÃ…â"¢ád stýská po rodi?ích. Neptej se mÄ›, jestli jeÅ¡tÄ› bre?ím steskem po domovÄ›. SamozÃ…â"¢ejmÄ› že mrtvým se po živých stýská.

Crying is right at hand in the smothering dark, closed inside someone else, when you see how everything you can ever accomplish will end up as trash. Anything you're ever proud of will be thrown away. And I'm lost inside. This is as close as I've been to sleeping in almost a week.

Eventually, when I stepped back inside the parlor door, only my nana's body was left on the sofa. The best of her--her laugh, her stories, even her coughing--was gone.

Tanr?n?n yaratt??? baÅŸka bir canl?y? sevmem ve sevmeyi ogrenmem için ailem bana y?llar önce ilk bal???m? alm??t?. Sahip olduÄŸum 640 baliktan sonra oÄŸrendiÄŸim tek ÅŸey insanin sevdiÄŸi herÅŸeyin bir gün öleceÄŸi oluyor. Özel kiÅŸiyle kar??laÅŸt???n ilk anda onun bir gün olup topra??n alt?na gireceÄŸinden emin olabilirsin.

This was freedom. Losing all hope was freedom. If I didn't say anything, people in a group assumed the worst. They cried harder. I cried harder. Look up into the stars and you're gone.

This is Tracene Kane, HoloNet news reporter embedded with the New Republic Thirty-First. And I'd like to tell you about a friend of mine. A friend the Empire just stole from me.

Somehow, the disappearance of coffee feels worse than the disappearance of all humankind.

The mind is less precarious than we think it is, Nate. Often, I believe it is our fear of losing it that's more dangerous than actually losing it, if you'll follow my logic. The fear of a thing is quite often worse than the thing we fear

Death was a tragedy. But death was also a data point.

Grief is like a cut in a strange place. You never know when you're going to bump into it, make it hurt again.

That was a pretty good laptop, but Reagan's glad to lose it. Sometimes sacrifices must be made in the search for sweet lulz

Do you ever think that people who find it tougher to say what they're feeling are the ones who feel things more intensely? As if they're the ones who really understand what it means to love someone? As if they have to keep their defenses high, because they care too much and have too much to lose?

Healing, recovering, from a death is also a form of estrangement, a further loss.

The novel is describing a time in which she felt hope, beauty, elation, joy ,wonder, anticipation-these are things these friends gave to her and this is why they mattered so much. Her rage corresponds to the immensity of what she has lost. It doesn't matter in a way whether all these emotions were the result of real interactions or of fantasy, she experienced them fully. And in losing them, has lost happiness.

But the shadow settled on them, obliquely, and was shuffled off only when Danielle rose to put on music, a Spanish soprano singing Cantaloube, her pure, agonized strains floating, their minor harmonies wavering in the small room, as if to remind them both that beauty and loss were inseparably entwined.

MY MOTHER assures me that it happens to everyone, sooner or later, for reasons more or less identifiable; everyone loses a best friend at some point. Not in the "she moved to Tucson" sense, but in the sense that "we grew apart.

You start to grow up and you learn from all the stories around you what the world is like, and yous tart to lose freedoms. Not because anybody actually tells you that you've lost them, but because you know you need to take care...Beware darkness, isolation, the outdoors, unlocked windows, men you don't know. And then you realize too that even men you know, or thought you knew, might not be okay.

If it isn't something precious, it doesn't serve as a price! But if it means I'm throwing away the most precious thing I have ... what's the good of it?

Goodbyes do hurt. They hurt so much that we would do anything to avoid feeling that pain again.

I'm afraid you're going to disappear one day, Kazahaya. Just like your name…just like the wind.

I'm sick of seeing people die!