Quotes About Loss

Compromise is but the sacrifice of one right or good in the hope of retaining another--too often ending in the loss of both.

Once upon a time Apache land would have stretched farther than the horizon, through New Mexico almost to Texas, but as white men found gold, silver, turquoise, and copper beneath its surface they carved up the territory like children sneaking to the fridge and slicing off a chocolate cake bit by bit: hoping at first that the loss wouldn't be noticed but ultimately not really caring.

I have lived with you and loved you, and now you are gone. Gone where I cannot follow, until I have finished all of my days.

One I love is taken from me, we will never walk together over the fields of earth, never hear the birds in the morning. Oh, how I have lived with you and loved you, and now you are gone away. Gone where I cannot follow, until I have finished all my days.

I was with my father at the end. He held my hand and I could see that he was at peace. Colin

I was sure I could bring him back to health. He died…a

Noam did kill Brennan. He shot his head open like a rotten fruit. He abandoned Dara to the quarantined zone. He let—his own mother killed herself to get away from him. And who could blame her?

The dead move on, but the living, we just stay here.

With the exception of those born in refugee camps, every refugee used to have a life. It doesn't matter whether you were a physician in Bosnia or a goat herder in the Congo: what matters is that a thousand little anchors once moored you to the world. Becoming a refugee means watching as those anchors are severed, one by one, until at last you're floating outside of society, an untethered phantom in need of a new life.

So, remember what we learned in the lycée, the words of Phan Boi Chau? 'For a human being, the greatest suffering comes from losing his country.

For her, he swallowed the black tea of exile.

More than all those people who starved by famine, it was the thought of my mother not remembering what she looked like as a little girl that saddened me.

Becoming a refugee is a gradual process, a bleaching ou, a transition into a ghostly existence.

Che Guevera and the Maoist PhD saw the Vietnamese revolution only from afar, with all its glamorous makeup, whereas I had seen it close up, denuded. Three million people dead for a revolution was, arguably, worth it, although that was always easier for the living! But three million people dead for this revolution? We had simply traded one Repressive State Apparatus for another one, and the only difference was that it was our own.

Nations, without exception, disposed of body parts all the time. How could we bear ourselves otherwise if not for the mass graves of our forgetting?

If youth was not wasted, how could it be youth?...Let me propose that truth, or some measure of it, can be found in these youthful follies that we forget, to our loss, as adults.

More than all those people starved by famine, it was the thought of my mother not remembering what she looked like as a little girl that saddened me.

Life is not easy for anyone here. Loss and fear, failure and disappointment, pain and ill-health, doubt and death-even those who have escaped from poverty have no escape from these. What makes life bearable is love-to love, to be loved, and-even after death or parting-to know that you have loved and been loved.

Death does not come free of charge, for it costs us our life.

Death is nothing but the body of a dead who has just died.

Don't regret having lost your money; maybe, if you kept it, it would have lost you.

He who wants everything every time will lose everything any time.

The death of a parent is expected, the death of a child is unexpected, and I expect everyone will die.

The loss which your neighbour does not know is no real loss.