Quotes About Loss

This frail cloth, a gift to the person he had once been, was his touchstone, a reminder that once he had been whole. Once there had been joy.

Just then Warren's breathing, which part of me was listening to with rapt attention, stopped. Adam heard it too, crouching as if there were an enemy in the room. Maybe there was. Death is an enemy, right?

Lugh's walking stick ate the Gray Lord's spell, and in doing so, it died. To save me.

Even knowing that David Bowie is gone, I am giddy about this." He said all that in a very dry, professional tone.

Poor boy, he'd been dead more than three years.

But despair was not a synonym for sorrow or regret. Despair was the loss of hope.

Her eyes grew black, and her face went blank, but she held on, mouthing one word over and over—Samuel's name. Samuel went to his knees, too, his eyes white and wild.

He did not except the fire to destroy everything they hadn't found.

But death isn't a tragedy to God, only to those left behind

I see." Her troubled gaze focused on the lock. "And the key would be ... ?" "Gone," he said. "Lost years ago. Not that it matters none. I once seen His Grace kick in a brick wall 'cause he was in a mood for what lay on the other side.

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter into another! — Anatole France

Recovery is the restoration of something lost. Verbal abuse creates loss. It robs people of their sense of self, their confidence, happiness, self-esteem, self-awareness, serenity, ability to trust, peace of mind, and almost their minds.

Strange to think of a form of love going extinct, like a carrier pigeon, a rare tortoise, a lilac or apple whose seeds are not to be found anymore, the scent and taste of the thing long lost, never to be touched again.

Husbands come and go, children come and eventually they go. Friends grow up and move away. But the one thing that's never lost is your sister.

In Moonlight No Soft sweet paw on my cheek No Fur curled under my chin Just A sad space left behind - Gray cat gone away. [Ellie's poem]

But for me, it feels like nighttime even in the brightest sun without my friend.

Long time I been on my own, but now really I'm alone. I survive the killing, the starving, all the hate of the Khmer Rouge, but I think maybe now I will die of this, of broken heart.

I spent the months with Houston regretting leaving you. When I heard you were no longer with my grandfather, I thought I had lost you. I don't ever wish to live through that time again." Perhaps

They arrive without money but with stories written on the parchment of their hearts which they don't recite easily. They are stories which have crept out of the edges of civil wars and scattered into the fleeing wind. You can read the words in their eyes, stained by despair; in their mouths, silenced and tightened by horror. You can even read the words in their thorn and weary clothes.

She had thought because he loved her body that he cherished it. But now she saw that he took her body to be a dream of his own. It gave him pleasure, it gave him work, it gave him comfort, and profit. It was even more completely his body than his own, since if he needed to, he could discard it. Nothing she had imagined about who she was to him was true. At that moment, she became his widow.

Is this for someone special?" asked the saleslady as she folded my purchase in layers of tissue paper. "For my mama," I said proudly. "She dead.

Crack seemed to have a different hold on folks than liquor did. Drunks would sober up and come to their senses in the morning. But once a crackhead got hooked all they did was chase that high. Even if it meant selling everything they owned for a hit: wedding rings, household appliances, their kids' clothes. Anything that had been important didn't matter anymore.

I didn't want my exhaustion to burn through my empathy. How terrifying was this loss of electric power superimposed on the powerlessness of aging and disability? I could not fathom it and tried not to be judgmental about my parents' reactions. How did it feel not seeing well to begin with and then functioning by flashlight? How did it feel to depend on others for your heat, water, and food?

But what was I but a scared child lost in a strange world? How could I replace all that been lost? Where was my place in the world?