Quotes About Loss

Many distortion campaigns seem to revolve around either real or perceived abandonment, loss, and rejection

loss of an economic basis is what, above all, fate means today.

Everything has not been lost, but everything has sensed that it might perish.

The ones who love us best are the ones we'll lay to rest And visit their graves on holidays at best The ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please If it's any consolation, I don't begin to understand them

Why do we only miss what we can't have when we can't have it, but do nothing to keep it when we can?

Missing those all-important life events like weddings and grandchildren, not celebrating the victories and special experiences or being there to offer support and share the tears of painful circumstances that were sure to invade the lives of those I loved. My grandparents and parents were supposed to die before me. Leaving behind all the precious people in my life would be my greatest regret. I was a wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend. I couldn't imagine not being

There was nothing to imagine with a gun except something that was dead.

How did he die?' 'He shot himself with an Italian pistol he'd bought in Rome just before he married her.

He died in St. Vincent's. I got a call one night, and this very firm Negro voice said, 'Your dad, he ain't got no life signs.' I said, 'You mean he's dead?' 'We ain't 'lowed to use that word,' said the voice. 'He ain't got no life signs is all.' " 'That's okay,' I said. "He never did.'

When your children were small you worried that they would die and you would lose them, and then they grew up and you ended up losing the children they'd been, anyway.

The worst description I ever read was by a best-selling novelist who sized up World War II this way: "The war was just terrible.

You are everything good and straight and fine and true—and I see that so clearly now, in the way you've carried yourself and listened to your own heart. You've changed me more than you know, and will always be a part of everything I am. That's one thing I've learned from this. No one you love is ever truly lost.

But in the end, fighting for a love that was already gone felt like trying to live in the ruins of a lost city.

All that was left for me was a terrible kind of paralysis, this waiting game, this heartbreak game.

I loved him for a full year and then, in one night, all my wishing came apart.

There are some who said I should have fought harder or longer than I did for my marriage, but in the end fighting for love that was already gone felt like trying to live in the ruins of a lost city.

Those early days in Paris were nearly forty years behind him and yet, in the final pages he writes of Hadley, "I wished I had died before I ever loved anyone but her.

The people we love never leave us, Anna. You know that already. That's what I mean by spirit. I mean love.

Sleep isn't a skill." I laughed at him. "But of course, señorita. The innocent have it. They're born with it. Somehow you lose it as you age. Worry steals it away.

There's so much to lose." "There always is," she said. I sighed and reached for another biscuit. "Are you always this wise, Ruth?" "Only when it comes to other people's lives.

For seven years Ernest had been not so much in my heart and mind as in my very blood cells. And now I would have to learn to live without him. How? Where could one learn to do that kind of amputation, and walk away alive, and still be the same person?

A week passes but it feels as if he's never been anywhere else. It's one of the things war does to you. Everything you see works to replace moments and people from your life before, until you can't remember why any of it mattered. It doesn't help if you're a soldier. The effect is the same.

My father died when I was young. We all thought it was rather fortunate at first. It simplified all sorts of things. But over time…well. Let's just say I've developed a theory that only the vanished truly leave their mark. And I still don't feel I've sorted it out. Maybe we never do survive our families.

then, hardly daring to breathe, lowered myself onto him. But it was too late. Before I had even begun to move, he softened inside me. I tried to kiss him, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.