Quotes About Loss

I think people see what they want to see... But think about it: if you'd lost someone you love, wouldn't you give almost anything to have the chance to see them again?

People forget that war is not simply about regimentals and anthems and brave soldiers. It is also about heartbreak and death and real people

You can't do this to me.You were the one who lectured me about living.You were the one who said I had to get out and see what was right in front of me and make the most of it and not wish my time away and find my mountain because my mountain was waiting, and all that adds up to life.But then you leave.You can't just do that.

This is what I know about loss: - It doesn't get better. You just (somewhat) get used to it. - You never stop missing the people who go away. - For something that isn't there anymore, it weighs a ton.

Every forty seconds, someone is left behind to cope with the loss.

How can something so final happen in an instant? No preparation. No warning. No chance to do all the things you planned to do. No chance to say goodbye.

The Parents, as my mother and father refer to Mr. Finch and Mrs. Finch, are insisting it was an accident, which, I guess, means we're free to mourn him out in the open in a normal, healthy, unstigmatised way. No need to be ashamed or embarrassed since suicide isn't involved.

I hate you. If only I'd known. If only I'd been enough . I let you down. I wish I could have done something. I should have done something. Was it my fault? Why wasn't I enough? Come back. I love you. I'm sorry.

Suddenly I'm having one of those moments that you have after losing someone—when you feel as if you've been kicked in the stomach and all your breath is gone, and you might never get it back. I want to sit down on the dirty, littered ground right now and cry until I can't cry anymore.

I know life well enough to know you can't count on things staying around or standing still, no matter how much you want them to. You can't stop people from dying. You can't stop them from going away. You can't stop yourself from going away either.

I am staring at the place where the floor used to be. All I can think is how one minute the floor was there and now it's not. How you could go through an entire day, every day, not thinking about the floor or the ground because you just assume it will always be there. Until it isn't.

I lost my friend to suicide a year before I lost my father to cancer. They were both ill at the same time, and they died within fourteen months of each other, but the reaction to their illnesses and deaths could not have been more different. People rarely bring flowers to a suicide.

Because after suffering a loss, you become a ghost in your own body. You observe yourself doing things and saying things that you might not normally do or say. You need something to ground you and prove to you that you're still here. As a way of feeling something. Anything.

I thought of the pieces of me I'd left behind, a piece here, a piece there, scattered like bread crumbs. How much of me was left?

Besides,in that instant we went plowing through the guardrail, my words died too.

I take a good long look at her. I know life well enough to know you can't count on things staying around or standing still, no matter how much you want them to. You can't stop people from dying. You can't stop them from going away. You can't stop yourself from going away either. I know myself well enough to know that no one else can keep you awake or keep you from sleeping. That's all on me too. But man, I like this girl.

Life is an accumulation of aches. They fill you up and take your breath away and you think you'll never breathe again, but before you know it, you are just words on paper, gone quiet and asleep until someone finds those words and reads them.

This is what happens when people die. They start to disappear if you don't watch it. Not all at once, but a piece here, a piece there.

Loss does that, hits you out of the blue. You can be in the car or in class or at the movies, laughing and having a good time, and suddenly it's as if someone has reached directly into the wound and squeezed with all their might.

I'm Fading, Maybe I'm Gone Already.

Sometimes things end, even if you don't want them to.

With face blindness, I seem to constantly lose the people I love.

I don't want to hear about the cardinal again. Because the thing of it is, that cardinal was dead either way, whether he came inside or not. Maybe he knew it, and maybe that's why he decided to crash into the glass a little harder than normal that day. He would have died in here, only slower, because that's what happens when you're a Finch. The marriage dies. The love dies. The people fade away. I

I didn't know that my life forever changing would be because you loved me and then left, and in such a final way.