Quotes About Loss

Ashley tried to speak. Tried again and still could not find the words. Finally she wiped her eyes, pressed her ear to my chest, and whispered. 'Give me all the pieces.

I had to let her go. She's not coming back. The distance is too great. The mountain between us is the one mountain I cannot climb.

I had to let her go. She's not coming back. The distance is too great. The mountain between us is the one mountain I cannot climb. I thought you should know.

I sat in that room and realized that you can cut off a finger, cut off a hand, even cut off a leg, but if you take a woman's breast, you are cutting more than just a body part.

grow back. It's not a lizard's tail. It's more like a huge stained glass that shattered into a million pieces, and it's not going back together. Least not the way it was. You can mush it all into one piece, but that doesn't make it a window. That makes it a pile of broken colored glass. Shattered hearts don't mend and they don't heal. They just don't work that way.

Letting myself experience or desire pleasure is like a shot through the heart of their memory.

because casinos are really good at taking people's money and making them feel worse than they did when they walked in, they offer live entertainment to medicate the malaise. Or lessen the blow.

He said he gave up what he couldn't keep to gain what he couldn't lose.

It also produced a painful longing to hear his voice just one more time.

She blazed, burned herself out, and then disappeared into the silent deep, sounding the echoes of remembrance throughout a hollow and shattered heart.

The point is that hell is separate from love. If Lucifer knows anything, he knows that. And ever since Emma left, I'd known the same thing. It's a lonely, desolate place.

Sometimes it takes an entire generation to see the life lost between freeway off-ramps.

Tel est le sort facheux de tout livre preté - souvent il est perdu, toujours il est gaté

An earlier plan to marry again had collapsed when her fiancé was killed in a motorcycle accident. His name was Don and he had taught oriental methods of self-defense in a martial arts academy. "They called it an accident," she said, "but I think the government had him killed because he knew too much about flying saucers.

Little did Papa realize that morning that he was never to see us or hold us again, nor would he ever again harken to the meadowlarks of Yell County trilling a joyous anthem to spring.

Well, it was right in there where I lost him. That traffic circle is where he tore his britches. I never saw him after that. He has no chin, you know." "You told me that." "Captain Hughes of the Rangers used to say that if they ever hanged old Ski they would have to put the rope under his nose.

People do not give it credence that a fourteen-year-old girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father's blood but it did not seem so strange then, although I will say it did not happen every day. I was just fourteen years of age when a coward going by the name Tom Chaney shot my father down in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and robbed him of his life and his horse and $150 in cash money plus two California gold pieces that he carried in his trouser band.

How shall we mourn you who are killed and wasted,sure that you would not die with your work unended,as if the iron scythe in the grass stops for a flower?

The west is dead. You may lose a sweetheart but you never forget her.

I left parts of myself everywhere, The way absent-minded people leave Gloves and umbrellas Whose colors are sad from dispensing so much bad luck

There is a widespread sense of loss here, if not always of God, then at least of meaning.

I lost my own daughter and I'll never have another. The hurt doesn't go away, no matter what you tell yourself. It's there day and night. I'd have killed any man who touched her. Why should I stand for such talk about another man's child, if I wouldn't have stood for it about my own?

We walked away from all that was warm and dear and stood frightened in cold rain where the guns fired, and in the end, we died in pain, the black stinking mud our shroud, embraced at last not by living arms, but by the bones of those who before us died …

But the most dangerous consequence of the naked public square is the loss of community.