Quotes About Loss

I am before, I am almost, I am never. And all of this I won when I stopped loving you.

I'll miss myself so bad when I die.

Sou o resultado de ter ouvido uma voz quente no passado e de ter descido do trem quase antes dele parar — a pressa é inimiga da perfeição e foi assim que corri para a cidade perdendo logo a estação e a nova partida do trem e seu momento privilegiado que desperta espanto tão dolorido que é o apito do trem, que é adeus.

No usar palabras es perder la identidad? [...] Pierdo la identidad del mundo en mí y existo sin garantías. Realizo lo realizable y lo irrealizable yo lo vivo y mi significado y el del mundo y el del tuyo no es evidente.

Around the shadow is a heat of abundant sweat. I'm alive. But I feel that I have yet to reach my limits, borders with what? ... And madly I take control of the recesses of myself, my ravings suffocate me with so much beauty. I am before, I am almost, I am never. And all of this I won when I stopped loving you. I write to you as an exercise in sketching before painting. I see words.

Around the shadow is a heat of abundant sweat. I'm alive. I'm alive. But I feel that I have yet to reach my limits, borders with what? ... And madly I take control of the recesses of myself, my ravings suffocate me with so much beauty. I am before, I am almost, I am never. And all of this I won when I stopped loving you. I write to you as an exercise in sketching before painting. I see words.

I lost something that was essential to me, and that no longer is. I no longer need it, as if I'd lost a third leg that up until then made it impossible for me to walk but that turned me into a stable tripod… I know I can only walk with two legs. But I feel the useless absence of that third leg and it scares me, it was the leg that made me something findable by myself, and without even having to look for myself.

Behind each thing a shadow lies; Beauty hath e'er its cost: Within the moonlight-flooded skies How many stars are lost!

Agnès se tourne vers moi. Ses yeux sont vert émeraude. Vert ne s'accorde pas avec yeux mais avec émeraude et se met donc au singulier. Son regard ainsi parfaitement accordé m'oblige à baisser le mien. Lâche, tu es lâche, Frédéric. Oui, mais il y a entre nous un enfant mort. Au singulier. Définitivement.

Someone, and no matter where, collects the pieces of my shadow.

December, 1919 Last night I heard your voice, mother, The words you sang to me When I, a little barefoot boy, Knelt down against your knee. And tears gushed from my heart, mother, And passed beyond its wall, But though the fountain reached my throat The drops refused to fall. 'Tis ten years since you died, mother, Just ten dark years of pain, And oh, I only wish that I Could weep just once again.

Even when relationships become fractured, or someone dies, the connections you have to your family are never lost.

La muerte pide resignación, la ausencia no.

La extrañaba incluso más que a Ana, tal vez porque echar de menos a alguien vivo tiene más sentido que hacerlo con un muerto. La muerte pide resignación, la ausencia no.

Cuántas otras palabras habré perdido? ¿A qué lugar de la memoria irán a parar las palabras olvidadas?

I)n memory, remorse wraps the self.

You cannot say— A body translates its you— you there, hey you even as it loses the location of its mouth. When you lay your body in the body entered as if skin and bone were public places, when you lay your body in the body entered as if you're the ground you walk on, you know no memory should live in these memories becoming the body of you.

Sevdi?i adamla evlenmeyi Zaza'ya yasaklad?lar. Genç k?z kederinden sarar?p soldu, t?pk? amans?z bir hastal??a yakalanm?? gibi öldü bu dert yüzünden. Menenjit dendi. Yirmi ya??nda a?ktan ölünebilece?ini saklaman?n bir yolu bu muydu yoksa?

in the first two decades of the nineteenth century, the indigenous land base shrank by 600,000 square miles, an area roughly the size of Alaska.10

Once there had been joy, but now there was only sadness, and it was not, he knew, alone the sadness of an empty house; it was the sadness of all else, the sadness of the Earth, the sadness of the failures and the empty triumphs.

He sank his head in his hand to blot out the light. For the first time in his life he suffered from more than a personal sense of loss. He suffered because others suffered.

I'm no spring chicken. The clock goes and Bessie goes. Only my machinery can't be fixed.

If they tell you that she died of sleeping pills you must know that she died of a wasting grief, of a slow bleeding at the soul.

You have your dreams, you look round and everything's broken, hearts, windows, walls, telephone boxes. Everything breaks and disappears.