Quotes About Loss

Death leaves trails of mutes.

He had ceased to be Shimonkeh when they took his mother. He ceased to be Shimon when they took his clothes and half his hair. He was prisoner #641, a slave belonging to Albert Speer.

abyss , n . There are times when I doubt everything. When I regret everything you've taken from me, everything I've given you, and the waste of all the time I've spent on us.

I get it. The things you hope for the most are the things that destroy you in the end.

You like him because he's a lost boy. Believe me, I've seen it happen before. But do you know what happens to girls who love lost boys? They become lost themselves. Without fail.

She has been hanging on to the hope of him for so long that she doesn't realize there isn't anything left to hope for.

What separates us from the animals, what separates us from the chaos, is our ability to mourn people we've never met.

So I said I wanted you to stay, even though nothing could stay the same.

The way you argued with me, you would have thought that we were debating the existence of God or whether or not we should move in together. These kinds of fights can never be won – even if you're the victor, you've hurt the other person, and there has to be some loss associated with that.

We gather the things we learned, and they don't nearly add up to fill the space of a life. You will miss the taste of Froot Loops. You will miss the sound of traffic. You will miss your back against his. You will miss him stealing the sheets. Do not ignore these things.

When someone breaks up with you, their beauty-- which you took such satisfaction in-- suddenly becomes unfair.

These kinds of fights can never be won - even if you're the victor, you've hurt the other person, and there has to be some loss associated with that.

As if when someone close to us dies, we momentarily trade places with them, in the moment right before. And as we get over it, we're really living their life in reverse, from death to life, from sickness to health.

I will never have a photograph of her to carry around in my pocket. I will never have a letter in her handwriting, or a scrap-book of everything we've done. I will never share an apartment with her in the city. I will never know if we are listening to the same song at the same time. We will not grow old together. I will not be the person she calls when she's in trouble. She will not be the person I call when I have stories to tell. I will never be able to keep anything she's given to me.

tiny: did someone die? me: yeah, i did. he smiles again at that. tiny: well, then... welcome to the afterlife.

It hurts that I can be so full of him while he's so empty of me.

Please may this not be a game. Please may this not be a game. Because if it's a game, I know I'm going to lose.

When you break someone's heart, you also break yours.

This is what a memorial is: standing still, staring at something that isn't ther

In my kind of falling, there's no landing. There's only hitting the ground. Hard. Dead, or wanting to be dead. So the whole time you're falling, it's the worst feeling in the world. Because you feel you have no control over it. Because you know how it ends.

Whatever we shared is gone, because it was destined to be gone from the minute it started.

She is no longer a person in his life; instead, she is a person that other people will remind him of.

When first love ends, most people eventually know there will be more to come. They are not through with love. Love is not through with them. It will never be the same as the first, but it will be better in different ways. I have no such consolation. This is why I cling so hard. This is why this is so hard.

Fuck you. This isn't about slipping yourself an extra twenty dollars of Monopoly money. These are our lives. You went and broke our lives. You are so much worse than a cheater. You killed something. And you killed it when its back was turned.