Quotes About Loss

Years had passed, and years had a bad name: a verse of Horace floated into his mind: Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes; eripuere jocos, Venerem, convivia, ludum… and for a moment he tried to make a tolerable English version; but his The years in passing rob us of our delight, of merriment and carnal love, of each in turn, all sport and dining out… did not please him and he abandoned the attempt.

A people that has had its ancient laws and customs taken from it, whose language and history count for nothing, and whose temples have been sacked and thrown down is apt to be morose

Think of the fellow in that play that calls out "My kingdom for a horse" – it would not have been poetry at all, had he said sheep.

I don't think of love in terms of relationships. It happens in terms of seconds, but it goes away like that, too. I pass a nurse, I love her, it ends when I go around a corner; at a restaurant I see a forlorn man at the table next to me, and I love him, and the conversation pulls me back, and it's ended. A patient comes in, and she is sick, and I love her, and then she dies, and I never see her again. This is what I live for. Don't think that it's sad.

When I first came here it was a pure country. There was music and dancing and magic every day in the streets. Now it's finished, everything. Even the religion. In a few more years the whole country will be like all the other Moslem countries, just a huge European slum, full of poverty and hatred.

Security is a false god; begin making sacrifices to it and you are lost.

Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss.

How you die out in me: down to the last worn-out knot of breath you're there, with a splinter of life.

Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss. But it had to go through its own lack of answers, through terrifying silence, through the thousand darknesses of murderous speech. It went through. It gave me no words for what was happening, but went through it. Went through and could resurface, 'enriched' by it all.

Reachable, near and not lost, there remained in the midst of the losses this one thing: language. It, the language, remained, not lost, yes, in spite of everything. But it had to pass through its own answerlessness, pass through frightful muting, pass through the thousand darknesses of deathbringing speech. It passed through and gave back no words for that which happened; yet it passed through this happening. Passed through and could come to light again, "enriched" by all this.

Il y a une chose plus triste à perdre que la vie, c'est la raison de vivre, Plus triste que de perdre ses biens, c'est de perdre son espérance.

In this place, upwards of 400,000 British men were going to be killed. They'd lost 20,000 just the other day. He sucked a grim smile. It was like rich countries deliberately killing themselves, leaving their battered remains ready for the revolution that would surely come, for who could return home without wanting to face those who had wasted good men thus?

Having multiple early losses and traumas that weren't adequately addressed at the time they happened can affect your brain development and make your nervous system more easily overwhelmed by emotions later in life.

Frijda made a very similar point when he said, "Grief often does not emerge when one is notified of death or departure; such notification consists only of words. Grief strikes when one comes home to the empty house.

why can't I stop all the moving and look out over the vast arrangements and find by the contours and colors and qualities of light where my father is, not to solve anything but just simply even to see it again one last time, before what, before it ends, before it stops. But it doesn't stop; it simply ends. It is a final pattern scattered without so much as a pause at the end, at the end of what, at the end of this.

If you're the type of investor who has enough time to let somewhat risky stocks trend upward or who has enough money so that a loss won't devastate you financially, then growth stocks are definitely for you.

By the time you've figured out how the world works, you've already lost about everything you've hope to keep.

By the time you figure out how the world really works, you've already lost about everything you'd hope to keep

The damage love does when love goes astray. And did it ever, given half a chance, fail to wander?

Kumar was a man who felt in the end he had lost everything, even his Englishness, and could then only meet every situation—even the most painful—in silence, in the hope that out of it he would dredge back up some self-respect.

And you read your emily dickinson, And I my robert frost. And we note our place with bookmarkers That measure what weve lost.

Death rephrases the life of everyone who's near.

Only two bodies were found and identified; the rest vanished, "and they are crying out for justice.

All the crockery in China had been smashed – flung over the years in all the periodic convulsions for which China was famous. All the blood-stained carpets had been tossed away. All the ancestors' portraits had been destroyed. All the bodies had been buried. It was a country of bare rooms and empty shelves, like this apartment