Quotes About Loss

Grief, however, creates a strange sensitivity. The world is too intense to tolerate: a veil, a drink, another anesthetic is required to blot out the ache of what remains. One sees too much and feels it, as Robert Lowell puts it, with one skin-layer missing.

It has been said that grief is a kind of madness. I disagree. There is a sanity to grief, in its just proportion of emotion to cause, that madness does not have. I know madness well, but I understood little of grief and I was not always certain which was grief and which was madness. Grief, as it transpires has its own territory.

I aged rapidly during those months, as one must with such loss of one's self, with such proximity to death, and such distance from shelter.

They can try acupuncture, they can try ECT, they can try a frontal lobotomy, none of it will work. I am a hopeless case. I have lost my angel. I have lost my mind. The days are too long, too heavy; my bones are crushing under the weight of these days.

If we have not struggled/as hard as we can/at our strongest/how will we sense/the shape of our losses/or know what sustains/us longest or name/what change costs us,/saying how strange/it is that one sector/of the self can step in/for another in trouble,/how loss activates/a latent double, how/we can feed/as upon nectar/upon need?

Forgetting takes space./Forgotten matters displace/as much anything else as/anything else. We must/skirt unlabeled crates/as thought it made sense/and take them when we go/to other states.

The dead do not become stars or ghosts. in fact, they are hardly undone. Soon their randomly dispersed parts reappear one by one on foreign hosts- the beloved ear or freckled arm, separate as a milagro or bracelet charm. It is not grotesque, though odd. Even a piece does us some good. "Charms

It had never occurred to me that our lives, which had been so closely interwoven, could unravel with such speed.

It had never occurred to me that our lives, which had been so closely interwoven, could unravel with such speed. If I'd known, maybe I'd have kept tighter hold of them, and not let unseen tides pull us apart.

It's all right. I'm not upset. After all, they were just things . When you've lost your mother and your father, you can't care so much about things , can you?

When we lost something precious, and we'd looked and looked and still couldn't find it, then we didn't have to be completely heartbroken. We still had that last bit of comfort, thinking one day, when we were grown up, and we were free to travel the country, we could always go and find it again in Norfolk.

But you play that passage like it's the -memory- of love. You're so young, yet you know desertion, abandonment. That's why you play that third movement the way you do. Most cellists, they play it with joy. But for you, it's not about joy, it's about the memory of a joyful time that's gone for ever.

There was surely nothing to indicate at the time that such evidently small incidents would render whole dreams forever irredeemable.

The colonel nodded. Our childhood seems so far away now. All this - he gestured out of the vehicle - so much suffering. One of our Japanese poets, a court lady many years ago, wrote how sad this was. She wrote of how our childhood becomes like a foreign land once we have grown. Well, Colonel, it's hardly a foreign land to me. In many ways, it's where I've continued to live all my life. It's only now I've started to make my journey from it.

It would be the saddest thing to me, princess. To walk separately from you, when the ground will let us go as we always did.

I was thinking about the rubbish, the flapping plastic in the branches, the shore-line of odd stuff caught along the fencing, and I half closed my eyes and imaginated this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, maybe even call.

Küçük bir k?z gördüm, eski iyi yürekli dünyay? göÄŸsüne yaslam??, art?k kalamayaca??n? yüreÄŸinde hissettiÄŸi bu dünyay? tutuyor, onu asla b?rakmas?n istiyordu.

I'm wondering if without our memories, there's nothing for it but for our love to fade and die.

If we'd understood that back then-who knows?-maybe we'd have kept a tighter hold of one another.

Of course, it is tragic that so many of his generation died as they did, but why must he harbour such bitterness for his elders?

I keep thinking about this river . . . two people in the water, trying to hold onto each other, holding on as hard as they can, but in the end it's just too much. The current is too strong. They've got to let go . . . It's a shame, Kath, because we've loved each other all our lives. But, in the end, we can't stay together forever.

and I half-closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, maybe even call.

cuando perdíamos algo precioso, y buscábamos y buscábamos por todas partes y no lo encontrábamos, no debíamos perder por completo la esperanza. Nos quedaba aún una brizna de consuelo al pensar que un día, cuando fuéramos mayores y pudiéramos viajar libremente por todo el país, siempre podríamos ir a Norfolk y encontrar lo que habíamos perdido hacía tanto tiempo

when we lost something precious, and we'd looked and looked and still couldn't find it, then we didn't have to be completely heartbroken. We still had that last bit of comfort, thinking one day, when we were grown up, and we were free to travel around the country, we could always go and find it again in Norfolk.