Quotes About Loss

My eyes are swollen shut. The sun rises. I don't.

On the second Thursday of the month, Mrs. Dombrowski brings her dead husband to our therapy group.

THE TRUTH and ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

As much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memories that someone has left this world, you are still in it. And the very act of living is a tide: at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded.

As long as I remembered them, then they were still here.

My father died last year," Thomas said. "I still look for him in crowds.

That's the paradox of loss: How can something that's gone weigh us down so much?

It's the question mark that comes with death that we can't face, not the period.

What I think is that there is no perspective in grief, or in love. How can there be, when one person becomes the center of the universe - either because he has been lost or because he has been found?

I don't know what it is about death that makes it so hard. I suppose it's the one-sided communication; the fact that we never get to ask our loved one if she suffered, if she is happy wherever she is now... if she is somewhere. It's the question mark that comes with death that we can't face, not the period.

Jei atiduodi kam nors savo šird?, o tie žmon?s miršta, ar jie nusineša j? su savim? Ar likusi? amžinyb?s dal? praleidi su kiauryme, kurios ne?manoma užpildyti?

I think my heart can't possibly hurt any more than it already does.

There are always sides. There is always a winner, and a loser. For every person who gets, there's someone who must give.

you eventually make the decision to divide your life in half—before and after—with loss being that tight bubble in the middle. You can move around in spite of it; you can laugh and smile and carry on with your life, but all it takes is one slow range of motion, a doubling over, to be fully aware of the empty space at your center.

You could lose track of someone when you blinked, Alex realized. She vowed not to let that happen to her and her daughter. Because when it came down to it, being a judge didn't matter nearly as much as being a mother. When Alex's clerk had told her the news about the World Trade Center, her first thought had not been for her constituents . . . only for Josie.

Do we grieve because the person we lost was such a light in the world? Or do we grieve because of who he was to us?

Sometimes you can't tell how consuming love is until you can see its absence.

This virtual stranger knew me better than anyone else in Africa. He knew me better than I knew myself. What I was really researching was not how elephants deal with loss but how humans can't.

LOSE someone you love, there is a tear in the fabric of the universe. It's the scar you feel for, the flaw you can't stop seeing. It's the tender place that won't bear weight. It's a void.

They go on to this better place, you know, which is what they wanted all along. But you and me, we're still left behind with all the questions they couldn't answer.

Let me tell you what happens when you cook down the syrup of loss over the open fire of sorrow: It solidifies into something else. Not grief, like you'd expect, or even regret. No, it gets thick as paste, black as ash; yet it isn't until you dip a finger in and feel that sharp taste dissolving on your tongue that you realize this is anger in its purest form, unrefined; a substance to be weighed and measured and spread.

It's funny, how fast life changes. One minute you are present, and the next, you might find yourself futilely trying to get back to the world you were once part of. You might find yourself looking for people who can no longer hear you. You are in the world, but not of it.

don't know what it is about death that makes it so hard. I suppose it's the one-sided communication; the fact that we never get to ask our loved one if she suffered, if she is happy wherever she is now… if she is somewhere.

You can love a pet more than you love some people," I say suddenly, surprising even myself. Everyone turns, because unlike the others, I hardly ever draw attention to myself by volunteering information. "It doesn't matter what it is that leaves a hole inside you. It just matters that it's there.