Quotes About Loss

Things that are not at all, are never lost.

There's a fine edge to new grief, it severs nerves, disconnects reality--there's mercy in a sharp blade. Only with time, as the edge wears, does the real ache begin.

Death never comes at the right time, despite what mortals believe. Death always comes like a thief.

You will see that the things you desire most are the very things that bring you the greatest sorrow.

In the expression of grief lies recovery from grief itself.

In the expression of grief lies recovery from grief itself. Nor

The fear of dying is not just the terror of pain, the humiliation of the loss of faculties, the fall into the abyss . . . but the primeval fear that afterwards one might remember it. The

And how do I know that the hate of death is not like a man who has lost his home when young and does not know where his home is to return to?

Tough love? That's bullshit. You love your kid and you keep on loving your kid. You take your kid back no matter what, and you keep on taking your kid back. Once, twice, a hundred times. The tough-love philosophy tells you to give your kid a million bucks and say, Don't come home until you're clean. Well, I did that. I gave my daughter a million bucks. She never got clean, and she never came home. She died.

Only after disaster can we be resurrected. It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything. Nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart.

I have lost everything, Han thought. Then he corrected himself. Every time I think I've lost everything, I find there's still something else to lose.

If he even survives." She shivered, and Amon put his arm around her, drawing her into his steady warmth. "It's that bad?" Raisa nodded. "He looked...he looked awful, Amon. Willo doesn't know if he'll...She's worried about him. My mother died, and I never got to tell her that I loved her, that I finally understood - just a little anyway. If Han dies too, I don't know what I'll do.

Grief was like that. It gradually faded into a dull ache, until some simple sight or sound or scent hit him like a hammer blow.

As for my family, my father was Danel; he died as a mercenary in the southern wars," Han went on. "My mother's name was Sarah, called Sali, and my sister was Mari. They died last summer. But then, you already knew that. Every time you forget, I'll remind you. That's the blood sacrifice I made to be here, and that's enough.

Love is the root of so much suffering and misery, so much loss. It's the worst thing in the world, to risk yourself by loving someone. At the same time, it's the best thing in the world—and worth the risk.

Crow shrugged. "What is death? The loss of a body? The loss of the animating spark? If that's the case, I am dead. "Or is life the persistence of memory and emotion, volition and desire?" Crow went on, as if in a debate with himself. "If that's the case, I am very much alive.

A sensible girl would not have been crying, grieving for the boy with the magic in his voice and the blues in his eyes, mourning the loss of something that was a lie-a lie-from beginning to end.

Revenge is a powerful motivation, especially for someone with nothing to lose.

Every time I think I've lost everything, I find there's still something else to lose.

Why did he deserve to live when everyone around him died?

The pressure of past tragedies drove him forward - the need to escape reminders of his losses, and the desire to be somewhere other than where he'd been. That, and a smoldering desire for revenge.

What if Rochella were taken from you right now? Let's say she was killed or kidnapped or separated from you by a war. How would you feel about her then? You'd fight for her. You'd miss her. You'd remember the million perfect moments you've had together.

I'm going to say [to George W Bush], 'And you tell me, what the noble cause is that my son died for.' And if he even starts to say 'freedom and democracy,' I'm going to say, 'bullshit.' You tell me the truth. You ell me that my son died for oil. You tell me that my son died to make your friends rich. You tell me my son died so you can spread the cancer of Pax America, imperialism, in the Middle East (2005, Voices of a People's History of the US)

Things can be cleaned and replaced. Great moments cannot afford to be lost.