Quotes About Loss

Olvidamos ciertas cosas, las olvidamos de verdad; nos equivocamos de medio a medio suponiendo que todo se conserva en el santuario de la memoria; algunos acontecimientos, incluso diría que la mayoría, se borran por completo, no queda la menor huella, y es exactamente como si nunca hubieran ocurrido.

pero no es el hecho de haber sido feliz en un lugar lo que hace dolorosa la perspectiva de abandonarlo, es simplemente el hecho de abandonarlo, de dejar atrás una parte de tu vida, por muy tediosa o incluso desagradable que haya podido ser, de ver que se hunde en la nada; en otras palabras, es el hecho de envejecer.

Born and raised in France. Slaughtered in France.

Nella prima parte della vita, ci si rende conto della propria felicità solo dopo averla perduta. Poi viene un'età, una seconda età, in cui si sa già, nel momento in cui si comincia a vivere una felicità, che si finirà col perderla.

Regarde, c'est la mort, mon amour.

Durante la primera parte de tu vida, no te das cuenta de tu felicidad hasta que la has perdido. Luego llega una edad, una segunda edad, en que sabes, en cuanto empiezas a vivir algo feliz, que acabarás perdiéndolo

Las relaciones familiares duran algunos años, a veces algunos decenios, de hecho duran mucho más tiempo que las demás; y al final también mueren

Je m'adresse à tous ceux qu'on n'a jamais aimés, Qui n'ont jamais su plaire; Je m'adresse aux absents du sexe libéré, Du plaisir ordinaire. Ne craignez rien, amis, votre perte est minime : Nul part l'amour n'existe. C'est juste un jeu cruel dont vous êtes les victimes; Un jeu de spécialistes.

Cuando muere lo más puro Cualquier gozo se invalida Queda el pecho como hueco, Y hay sombras por donde mires.

Le lien a tenu. Rien ne pouvait le rompre. Mon deuil s'est poursuivi avec l'infinie lenteur du souvenir qui s'enfonce dans la mémoire. Mais j'ai recommencé à tourner les yeux vers l'avenir. J'ai accordé plus d'attention, et plus d'amour aux vivants.

Virgile est mort écrasé sous les pneus d'un tracteur agricole.

Le drame, vois-tu, c'est que beaucoup d'entre nous ne peuvent vivre ni dans leur patrie, ni à l'étranger. - Alors que leurs reste-t-il? - Le malheur.

Si elle avait vécu, est-ce que j'aurais pu prendre le téléphone, là, tout de suite, l'appeler, lui dire je meurs de douleur, maman, je voudrais pleurer mais rien ne sort, rien ne sort, viens m'aider.

Molti uomini sono lâches. Lasciano andar via. Lasciano partire. Lasciano perdere. Perché non vogliono confrontarsi direttamente col dolore. Non sopportano di sentirsi impotenti. E allora cambiano discorso. Oppure riagganciano il telefono. Oppure cominciano a guardare distrattamente gli sms che arrivano sul cellulare per poi dirti che è proprio un peccato, che non possono farci nulla, ma che adesso devono proprio andarsene.

Iar razbunarea e aceasta: intrucat noi l-am ucis pe el, el asa mort cum este ne-a luat lumina si cu ochii inchisi i-a inchis pe-ai nostri, care nu mai stralucesc deasupra pamantului.

there comes a time when you measure how much you have to lose!

we are all sorry when loss comes for us. The test of our character comes not in how many tears we shed but in how we act after those tears have dried.

And grief, for anyone who has ever experienced it, is exactly like a predator. It steals first your happiness, and then—if you allow it—everything else.

I held Nefertiti's body closer to mine, trying to press her spirit into me, to bring it back. But the reign of Nefertiti was finished. She was gone from Egypt.

I understand that you are still grieving. But we will always be grieving.

I was a queen, and you took away my crown; a wife, and you killed my husband; a mother, and you deprived me of my children. My blood alone remains: take it, but do not make me suffer long. —MARIE ANTOINETTE

Nefertiti!" I shouted. "Meritaten!" How could they both be gone? Where could they be? I rounded the corner to the window of Appearences, then opened the door. The blood had already spread across the tiles. "Nefertiti!" I screamed, and my voice echoed through the palace.

They had raised her from infancy to eight plus years of age. That's a long time and when so much of yourself is put into training, nurturing and loving a child it is like losing your own flesh and blood.

Three weeks after New Year, she lost her faith. It happened quite suddenly. She simply woke up and it was gone. As she lay in bed it occurred to her that between religion and superstition there was no difference, since both were based on unreason. To kill a man to redeem the sins of others was as irrational as tapping a hole in one's eggshell to stop a witch using it as a boat.