Quotes About Loss

While writing a novel about those who have lost their memories, he himself begins to lose his memory… He rushes to finish it before he forgets what he was writing.

De laatste persoon die zich mij herinnert als kind is heengegaan, zei ik tegen mijzelf. En toen pas begon ik te huilen, als een kind.

Talleta muistiisi itse rakkaus äläkä sen menettämistä

Still, it is like a long hopeless homesickness my missing those young days. To me, they're like my own place that I have gone away from forever, and I have lived all the time since among great pleasures but in a foreign town. Well, O.K. Farewell, certain years.

Failure too is a form of death.

But it's like life, isn't it? We know death is coming. And yet we always see our loved ones as taken away from us, instead of given to us for whatever time they have.

Somewhere, all the people we have loved and lost are still among us, in the house that we call history.

It's bad enough weeping for the loss of a love you once had. Don't be after weeping for the loss of a love you never had at all.

Why does the life everlasting have to be won at such terrible cost? If the life everlasting is true, why can it be achieved only through death, through grief, and through agony? What kind of God is it who gives us the world and everything in it, and the capabiliiy of loving so fiercely, and then takes it all away?

Like I say, this house is far too big for me anyway, and maybe it'll do my head good to get away from the memories of your Ma. Sometimes I still think that she's upstairs, in bed, and I have to go up just to make sure that she's not.' He paused, and then he said, almost inaudibly, 'She never is.

He had turned the loss of his virginity into a campaign, when all it took was a few sous and five minutes of his time. (pg 21)

All that it took to destroy something, here, was to fail to keep track of it.

As for the stars, they were never ours to lose; the truth is, we've lost nothing but the illusion of their proximity.

I have no strength now to speak of my loss of strength.

I didn't cry when they buried my father - I wouldn't let myself. I didn't cry when they buried my sister. On Thursday night, with my family asleep upstairs, my eyes filled as Agassi and Marcos Baghdatis played out the fifth set of their moving second-round match.

What they're doing down there is mourning. As millions of people across the infinitude of the grid shall always be mourning, coping with every imaginable variation of loss. Every loss deserves a telling.

When a parent dies, your center of gravity is altered. Even if you lived apart from them—even if you walled yourself off from all contact—you are irrevocably lessened by their passing. Death, like gravity, respects no barriers.

Whenever life gets too good, whenever fate hands you something wonderful, something else gets taken away.

Only 768 people—passengers and crew—had survived; four of those died of their injuries in the next months. Some 1,198 had perished, including 128 Americans. Over 800 of Lusitania's victims were never recovered.(

Jim Elliot summarized it well: "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.

She released his hand and sat back. That air of sadness had descended on her once more. His father had carried a similar melancholy after his mother had passed; Poe would see it descend on him like a shadow, settle over his shoulders like a blanket made of warmth and memory and longing and loss. Leia wore something made of the same material, and not for the first time Poe wondered how she had come by it and, perhaps more importantly, who had given it to her.

two graves with no grass grown over them yet

He didn't just remember his grief, he relearned it.

In daylight her death had taken on a reality. It lived in the house with them, in the dust on the floors, the blankness of the ceilings, the soft, unanswered noises of his movement past her room. After