Quotes About Loss

A dead man's dog ain't got a name.

A life without grief is no life at all. But regret is a prison. Some part of you which you deeply value lies forever impaled at a crossroads you can no longer find and never forget

Because beauty has power to call forth a grief that is beyond the reach of other tragedies. The loss of a great beauty can bring an entire nation to its knees. Nothing else can do that.

Qué harías si yo muriera? / Si tú murieras yo también querría morirme / ¿Para poder estar conmigo? / Sí. Para poder estar contigo / Vale

I just meant I'd seen things I'd as soon not of. I know it. There's hard lessons in this world. What's the hardest? I don't know . Maybe it's just that when things are gone they're gone. They aint comin back.

This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair. That is my job. Then he wrapped him in the blanket and carried him to the fire.

Lastly he looked at the face so caved and drawn among the folds of funeral cloth, the yellowed moustache, the eyelids paper thin. That was not sleeping. That was not sleeping.

The mother dead these fourteen years did incubate in her own bosom the creature who would carry her off.

Well. I think maybe it's harder to lose just one thing than to lose everything.

Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him. His mother's face, his First Communion, women he had known. The faces of men as they died on their knees before him. The body of a child dead in a roadside ravine in another country.

Pe-acest drum nu mai e nici un suflet de om de la care s? auzi vorba Domnului. S-au dus, iar eu am r?mas È™i ei au luat cu ei lumea. Întrebare: prin ce se deosebeÈ™te ce nu va fi niciodat? de ce nu a fost niciodat??

And the dreams so rich in color. How else would death call you?

The whole affair calls up images you'd rather not entertain. Her great hummocky fundament wobbling away down the street like a sack of cats headed for the river.

All the time you spend tryin to get back what's been took from you there's more goin out the door.

Can I ask you something? Yes. Of course you can. What would you do if I died? If you died I would want to die too. So you could be with me? Yes. So I could be with you. Okay.

He thought perhaps if he dreamt of him enough he'd go away forever and be dead among his kind

You catch the snowflake but when you look in your hand you dont have it no more. Maybe you see this dechado. But before you can see it it is gone. If you want to see it you have to see it on its own ground. If you catch it you lose it. And where it goes there is no coming back from. Not even God can bring it back.

One of the things you realize about gettin older is that not everbody is goin to get older with you. You

He knew that those things we most desire to hold in our hearts are often taken from us while that which we would put away seems often by that very wish to become endowed with unsuspected powers of endurance. He knew how frail is the memory of loved ones. How we close our eyes and speak to them. How we long to hear their voices once again, and how those voices and those memories grow faint and faint until what was flesh and blood is no more than echo and shadow. In the end perhaps not even that.

If someone said to you that you had thrown your life away over a woman what would you say? Well thrown.

I'll go slower. Grief is the stuff of life. A life without grief is no life at all. But regret is a prison. Some part of you which you deeply value lies forever impaled at a crossroads you can no longer find and never forget.

This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair.

It was the nature of his profession that his experience with death should be greater than for most and he said that while it was true that time heals bereavement it does so only at the cost of the slow extinction of those loved ones from the heart's memory which is the sole place of their abode then or now. Faces fade, voices dim. Seize them back, whispered the sepulturero. Speak with them. Call their names. Do this and do not let sorrow die for it is the sweetening of every gift

Perhaps they had come to warn him. But of what? That he couldn't enkindle in the boy's heart what was ashes in his own?