Quotes About Loss

Su madre? Dónde, señor?" "Muerto." "Hoy?" "Sí. This morning. Questo auroro. Aurora?" Italian again. Italy again, the Via Veneto, the peaches, the girls!

The sight of a coffin going into the ground can effect a great change of heart—all at once you find you are not so disappointed in this person who is dead—but what the sight of a coffin does for the mind in its search for the truth, this I don't profess to know.

How do you have one eyes?" asked Rosa, gently rocking him to and fro. "Por qué?" "La guerra," he moaned. "It cry, glasseye?" "I told you, it wasn't cheap.

Nobody beloved gets out alive.

The sad inventory of his domestic bounty.

When Heshie was killed in the war, the only thing people could think to say to my Aunt Clara and my Uncle Hymie, to somehow mitigate the horror, to somehow console them in their grief, was, "At least he didn't leave you with a shikse wife. At least he didn't leave you with goyische children." End of Heshie and his story.

He is survived by the ghost of his mother; Yetta, of Beth Something-or-other Cemetery, Neptune, New Jersey, who haunted him unceasingly during the last year of his life.

The last kiss is given to the void.

A phone at a cemetery would be ringing off the hook. If you could get them on the phone . .

Now, thanks to you, my beloved little darling, being dead is as awful as being alive was.

Por outro lado, é justamente o que há de normal nos funerais o que os torna mais dolorosos, mais um registro da realidade da morte que avassala tudo.

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride In her sepulchre there by the sea — In her tomb by the side of the sea.

Dr. Eric Cassell, an internist at Cornell University, concluded about his patients, "If I had to pick the aspect of illness that is most destructive to the sick, I would choose the loss of control.

Those who suffer can respond to the call of the gospel with a certain abandonment and uncomplicated totality because they have so little to lose and are ready for anything.

Grief had refined her girlish prettiness, she had the clear decided looks of a woman who had seen her hopes destroyed.

He had taken George, my beloved George, from me. And he had taken my other self: Anne.

They say that at the mountain pass he looked back at his kingdom, his beautiful kingdom, and wept, and his mother told him to weep like a woman for what he could not hold as a man.

I won't forgive this wrong done to me and my house, whoever it was that killed my boys, I shall put a curse on their house that they will have no first born son to inherit. Whoever took my son will lose his son. He will spend his life longing for an heir. He will bury his first born and long for him, for I cannot even bury mine.

Dear god, I am only twenty seven, my cause is defeated, my husband is dead. am I to be one of the poor widows who will spend the rest of their days at someone else`s fireside trying to be a good guest? shall I never be kissed again? shall I never feel joy? not ever again?

He has lost his print upon the earth; he has lost any fire.

I am sorry for you. And I am sorry for me. When you are sent back to me, perhaps a month from now, perhaps a year, I will try to remember this day, and you looking like a child, a little lost among all these clothes. I will try to remember that you were innocent of any plotting; that today at least, you were more a girl than a Boleyn.

She doesn't realize yet though men go to war it is the women who suffer--perhaps more than anyone.

I find I must prepare for my death. I don't fear it. Ever since I lost my son I have been weary to my soul, and I think, when it finally comes, it will be a lying down to sleep without fear of dreams, without fear of waking. I am ready to lie down to sleep. I am tired.

men who must die have lost, and the Northern lords who will be executed or exiled have lost, and the greatest duke in England, fighting for his life and his good name, has lost ... and I have lost you.