Quotes About Loss

Come posso cantare queste dolcezze di cui ho colmo il cuore, se Egli mi riempie la bocca di gemiti? Come posso concedermi a queste ore, di cui m'è sorella ogni musica, se Egli mi uccide le parole, mi ruba ogni nota? L'amore e i dolci ricordi, le serate festose e i conviti, tutto disperso dalle Sue impazienze. Ogni cibo amareggiato, ogni oblìo inghiottito dalla Sua voracità. Ogni mia preghiera avvolta nella caligine incandescente.

Giorni miei Solo a sera m'è dato assistere alla deposizione della luce, quando la vita, ormai senza rimedio, è perduta. Mio convoglio funebre di ogni notte: emigrazione di sensi, accorgimenti delle ore tradite, intanto che lo spirito è rapito sotto l'acutissimo arco dell'esistenza: l'accompagna una musica di indicibile silenzio. Invece dovere ogni mattina risorgere sognare sempre impossibili itinerari.

I still notice the burned house, mornings, when I walk along the beach. "Well, obviously I do not notice the house. What I notice is what remains of the house. One is still prone to think of a house as a house, however, even if there is not remarkably much left of it.

What we spend, we lose. What we keep will be left for others. What we give away will be ours forever.

Do you miss her?' 'Who? Emma? Of course. Every day. She was my best friend.

From an evolutionary point of view, most emotions - fear, desire, anger - serve some practical purpose, but nostalgia is a useless, futile thing because it is a longing for something that is permanently lost . . . .

perhaps grief is as much regret for what we have never had as sorrow for what we have lost.

I want my best friend back, she thinks, because without him nothing is good and nothing is right.

To be honest, I don't think you deserved her, but I don't think any of us deserved her really. She was always going to be the smartest, kindest, funniest, loyalest person we would ever meet, and the fact of her not being here well it just isn't right

Then ------ dies, and everything that she thought or felt vanishes and is gone forever.

Then Emma Mayhew dies, and everything that she thought or felt vanishes and is gone forever

She was always going to be the smartest, kindest, funniest, loyalest person we would ever meet, and the fact of her not being here well it just isn't right

grief is as much about regret for what you've never had as sadness for what you've lost. Anyway, we got through it somehow.

And Emma felt another small portion of her soul fall away

grief is as much about regret for what you've never had as sadness for what you've lost.

grief is as much regret for what we have never had as sorrow for what we have lost. As

He had always imagined that some sort of emotional mental equipment was meant to arrive, when he was forty-five, say, or fifty, a kind of kit that would enable him to deal with the impending loss of a parent. If he were only in possession of this equipment, he would be just fine. He would be noble and selfless, wise and philosophical. Perhaps he would even have kids of his own, and would presumably possess the kind of maturity that comes with fatherhood, the understanding of life as a process.

He had always imagined that some sort of emotional mental equipment was meant to arrive, when he was forty-five, say, or fifty, a kind of kit that would enable him to deal with the impending loss of a parent. If he were only in possession of this equipment, he would be just fine. He would be noble and selfless, wise and philosophical.

nostalgia is a useless, futile thing because it is a longing for something that is permanently lost

grief is as much about regret for what you've never had as sadness for what you've lost.

Yet there seemed to be no easy correlation between the awful grief I felt at her death and our closeness – or lack of it – in life, and it occurred to me that perhaps grief is as much regret for what we have never had as sorrow for what we have lost.

In eight years not a day has gone by when she hasn't thought of him. She misses him and she wants him back. I want my best friend back, she thinks, because without him nothing is good and nothing is right.

No reason, Em,' said Dex. 'I just really, really want to tip you' and Emma felt another small portion of her soul fall away.

Max, for some people there are no victories, just alternate forms of losing.