Quotes About Loss

All loss is one, and one loss becomes all, a single death is the key to the gate that bars memory.

Damn Frank!" he said ferociously. "Damn all Randalls! Damn Jack Randall, and damn Mary Hawkins Randall, and damn Alex Randall—er, God rest his soul, I mean," he amended hastily, crossing himself.

away from home. Young children stray from their parents and are never seen again. Housewives reach the end of their tether and take the grocery money and a taxi to the station. International financiers change their names and vanish

And so he began haltingly to speak—in Gaelic, as it was the only tongue that didn't seem to require any effort. He understood that he was to speak of what filled his heart, and so began with Scotland—and Culloden. Of grief. Of loss. Of fear.

It's my fault, I said softly. I touched his face, the thick brows, wide mouth, and the sprouting stubble along the clean,long jaw. Mine. If I hadn't come...and told you what would happen... I felt a true sorrow for his corruption, and shared a sense of loss for the naïve, gallant lad he had been. And yet...what choice had either of us truly had, being who we were? I had had to tell him, and he had had to act on it.

All loss is one, and one loss becomes all, a single death the key to the gate that bars memory.

It was what you did when someone died; turned toward God and at least acknowledge the fact.

I think sometimes the dead cherish us, as we do them

You have lost your mind,Jamie said coldly, the shock receding slightly. Or I should think you had, if ye had one to lose.

Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed. That's the first law of thermodynamics, I said, wiping my nose. No, he said. That's faith.

Wakefield's not my own name, see; the Reverend gave it me when he adopted me. He was my mother's uncle—when my parents were killed in the War, he took me to live with him. But my own name is MacKenzie.

If needs must, she could do those things for herself-or find another man. And yet...she needed him-would mourn his loss if it came. Perhaps forever. In his present vulnerable mood, that knowledge seemed a great gift.

But when I lay wi' Emily—from the first time. I knew. Kent who I was again." He looked up at her then, eyes dark and shadowed by loss. "My soul didna wander while I slept—when I slept wi' her.

I know what it felt Ã¢â'¬Â¦ like when I Ã¢â'¬Â¦ thought you were dead, and—" A small gasp for breath, and her eyes locked on his. "And I wouldn't do that to you.

It looks as though it hurt." "It did." "Did you cry?" His fists clenched involuntarily at his sides. "Yes!" Jenny walked back around to face him, pointed chin lifted and slanted eyes wide and bright. "So did I," she said softly. "Every day since they took ye away.

It took two days, and God kens well that I recall every second of those days—yet it seems that I lost her between one heartbeat and the next. And I—I keep lookin' for her there, in that space between.

And time is, of course, all-healing. Give anything enough time, and everything is taken care of: all pain encompassed, all hardship erased, all loss subsumed.

My niece's son, really," he confided. "Father shot down over the Channel, and mother killed in the Blitz, though, so I've taken him.

All loss is one, and one loss becomes all, a

Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed.

I will not mourn him alone tonight," he said roughly, and closed the door.

I felt raw and bruised. Severed in some vital part, as always when parted from Jamie for very long, but also as though I had been violently ejected from my home, like a barnacle ripped from its rock and heedlessly tossed into boiling surf.

my heart went to water and drained from my chest.

But now and then, I saw suddenly and clearly the magnitude of the gulf I had crossed—the dizzying loss of the world I had been born to—and felt very much alone. And afraid.