Quotes About Loss

L'église de tout à l'heure. Plus de tapis rouge. Ce soir, une vierge de moins.

Oui, les mots, ma patrie, les mots, ça console et ça venge. Mais ils ne me rendront pas ma mère.

The tragedy of life is what dies in the hearts and souls of people while they live.

It is no longer real, but just an illusion that I make real for my own amusement. To know the self we must make the mountains move. All we need is just an insight; not much, just a flash, a moment in which no reflection occurs. These moments go on all the time, and all the time we close up against them. We close up against a loss of self, we react, we clench, we adopt one or other strategy.

Consciousness of innocence is an excellent anchor, no doubt. But what good is an anchor after the ship has sunk?

Sunnybank Gray Dawn outlived all the Little People I have spoken of—except Tippy—in this book. Dawn was the last of the great Sunnybank collies. He died on May 30, 1929, leaving bitter heartaches behind him. Peace to his white soul!)

Soon or late, every dog's master's memory becomes a graveyard; peopled by wistful little furry ghosts that creep back unbidden, at times, to a semblance of their olden lives.

All dogs die too soon. Many humans don't die soon enough. A dog is only a dog. And a dog is too gorgeously normal and wholesome to be made ridiculous in death by his owner's sloppy sentimentality.

the tragedy of life is not that we die, but is rather, what dies inside a man while he lives.

Adults have the benefit of experience and know the trick will work as long as the technique is correct. When we "grow up" we gain this experience and knowledge, but we lose our innocence and sense of wonder. In other words, the price we pay for growing up is a permanent sense of loss.

La incomunicación es la mejor manera para que algo que existía deje de existir.

Y lo más triste del asunto es que va a tener razón: no soy su tipo. Al menos, ya no lo soy. Porque de que lo fui , lo fui. Pero algo pasó. Y éste es el resultado, supongo.

my boredom might be described as a malady affecting external objects and consisting of a withering process; an almost instantaneous loss of vitality--just as though one saw a flower change in a few seconds from a bud to decay and dust.

Los seres que se aman se pierden, y resulta menos doloroso no amar a nadie.

Growing up is never straight forward. There are moments when everything is fine, and other moments where you realize that there are certain memories that you'll never get back, and certain people that are going to change, and the hardest part is knowing that there's nothing you can do except watch them.

We grieve only for what we know.

Explicar con palabras de este mundo que partió de mí un barco llevándome.

8 y 1/2 h. Mi cuerpo no quiere levantarse, sino seguir durmiendo. Entreabro los ojos, aspirando los objetos de la habitación. Los cierro de nuevo, suspirando. ¡Cuántas cosas pierdo! ¡Cuántas sensaciones, vivencias, aprendizajes! ¡Todo por morir un poco más! ¡Todo por vivir menos, en ésta, mi dolorosa e irreal realidad!

Your eyes begin in my eyes which no longer see you. Begin in my voice which no longer speaks to you. Die out in my hands which no longer touch you. Your eyes are inscribed in my flesh. No one can bear to see me now. Sinister tattoo. I do the rain, I do the sun. For want of your eyes in my eyes.

Y yo caminaría por todos los desiertos de este mundo y aun muerta te seguiría buscando, a ti, que fuiste el lugar del amor.

Sensación de estar perdiendo mucha sangre por alguna herida que no ubico.

Para que las palabras no basten es preciso alguna muerte en el corazón

Blue eyes as a response to this death right next to me, which speaks to me and is me.

I drank to see him again at the bottom of your wine