Quotes About Loss

You're dead, son," Jack said. "Cheer is contraindicated.

I thought about my father. I usually do, when I get that low. He was a good man, a generous man, a hopeless loser.

I know what it's like to lose it.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

Trite but true—you don't know what you have until it's gone. People change. The world changes. And sooner or later you lose people you care about. If you don't mind some advice from someone who doesn't know much about families, I can tell you this: Don't take yours for granted. It might feel like all of them will always be there. But they won't." She

It's a shadelight. Some of my men put one up whenever I lose a member of the crew. To light his shade's way back to his bunk, so he can rest.

And for a time, there was nothing else to be done. I wept. And the city burned.

Death is certain, Aleran—for all of us. That being true, we know that all of those we love will either be torn away from us, or we will be torn away from them. It follows as naturally as the night after sundown.

MURPHY'S SATURN HAD gotten a little blown up a couple of years back

It was a loss of identity. I was a wizard. It was more than just a job, more than just a title. Wizardry was at the core of my being. It was my relationship with my magic, the way I used it, the things it let me do that defined me, shaped me, gave me purpose. I

Every relationship ended. Sometimes it ended voluntarily with a break-up or an affair. Sometimes it ended with death. Only the lucky ones died together. Everyone else had to suffer through being a survivor. And she hated that term most of all.

Monsters are born of pain and grief and loss and anger. Your heart is full of them.

I wept. And the city burned.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

All it would cost me was my soul. And no, I'm not talking about anything magical or metaphysical. I'm talking about the core of my identity, about what makes Harry Dresden who and what he is. If I lost those things, the things that define me, then what would be left?

Have you ever felt despair, absolute hopelessness? Have you ever stood in the darkness and known deep in your heart, in your spirit, that it was never, ever going to get better? That something had been lost forever and that it wasn't coming back?

Game over, man. Game over.

My .38 had been lost in the battle with the gang of half-mad lycanthropes the year before, and I'd replaced it with a medium-barreled .357. I must have been feeling insecure that day, or something

There's a reason he fell became synonymous for he died. Losing your feet on a battlefield is an all-but-certain death sentence.

When was the last time you could taste and feel some little lovely's cries?' I regarded her without any expression and said, in a gentle voice, 'Technically? When I killed Aurora.

You're going to lose that hand. - I was sending it back to the kitchen anyway. I ordered it medium well.

I finally understood that death and numbers don't cohere. Everyone is 'one.' An accident report might say that nine died, four of them in their teens, but each death was 'one.' Each of six million Jews was 'one.' With death it is a series of 'ones.

I suppose poor Adams never recovered from the suicide of his wife, though it is arguable whether anyone ever truly recovers from anything.

She awoke early and figured out the room coffeepot. She felt slowwitted and wondered if she was losing her mind, a concept she had always disagreed with. How could you lose your mind? It was always there though it could be in severe disrepair.