Quotes About Loss

And I pray one prayer - I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you - haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe, I know that ghosts have wanderedon earth. Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!

He's not a human being,' she retorted; 'and he has no claim on my charity. I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death, and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen: and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.

You loved me-then what right had you to leave me?Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart- you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! would you like to lie with your soul in the grave?

For what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags! In every cloud, in every tree - filling the air at nights, and caught by glimpses in every object, by day I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men, and women - my own features - mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!

He didn't pray for Catherine's soul to haunt him. Time bought resignation, and a melancholy sweeter than common joy. He recalled her memory with ardent, tender love, and hopeful aspiring to the better world; where he doubted not she was gone.

While I read, I sighed, for it seemed as if all joy had vanished from the world, never to be restored

Je lui ai donné mon cÅ"ur, il l'a pris, l'a broyé et me l'a rejeté mort. C'est avec le cÅ"ur qu'on sent, Hélène ; puisqu'il a détruit le mien, je n'ai plus le pouvoir de rien ressentir pour lui.

Las personas sienten con los corazones, y, dado que él ha destruido el mío, yo no tengo capacidad de sentir nada por él

for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree - filling the air at night, and caught by glimpse in every object by day - I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women - my own features - mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!

GeçmiÅŸteki mutluluÄŸu hat?rlamak beni periÅŸan ediyordu. Dahas?, geçmiÅŸin hayalini akl?mda tutman?n çok büyük tehlikesi vard?, çünkü yemeÄŸi h?zl? kar??t?r?rsan elinde olan? da ziyan edersin.

And my heart aches, in hopeless pain Exhausted with repinings vain, That I shall greet them ne'er again!

A che scopo esisterei, se fossi tutta contenuta in me stessa? I miei grandi dolori, in questo mondo, sono stati i dolori di Heathcliff, io li ho tutti indovinati e sentiti dal principio. Il mio gran pensiero, nella vita, è lui. Se tutto il resto perisse e lui restasse, io potrei continuare ad esistere; ma se tutto il resto durasse e lui fosse annientato, il mondo diverrebbe, per me, qualche cosa di immensamente estraneo: avrei l'impressione di no farne più parte.

A great hope fell You heard no noise The ruin was within.

I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: 'T will keep. I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.

I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the rows of stars around it's forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; yet to my frugal eye of more esteem than ducats. Oh! Find it, sir, for me!

I miss you, mourn for you, and walk the streets alone- often at night, beside, I fall asleep in tears, for your dear face, yet not one word comes back to me. If it is finished, tell me, and I will raise the lid to my box of Phantoms, and lay one more love in; but if it lives and beats still, still lives and beats for me, then say so, and I will strike the strings to one more strain of happiness before I die.

Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.

I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God! Angels, twice descending, Reimbursed my store. Burglar, banker, father, I am poor once more!

Los que son amados no pueden morir, Porque amor significa inmortalidad.

We do not play on Graves— Because there isn't Room— Besides—it isn't even—it slants And People come— And put a Flower on it— And hang their faces so— We're fearing that their Hearts will drop— And crush our pretty play— And so we move as far As Enemies—away— Just looking round to see how far It is—Occasionally—

Then, as horizons step, Or noons report away, Without the formula of sound, It passes, and we stay: A quality of loss Affecting our content.

And somebody has lost the face That made existence home!

After you went, a low wind warbled through the house like a spacious bird, making it high but lonely. When you had gone the love came. I supposed it would. The supper of the heart is when the guest has gone.

Perception of an object costs Precise the Object's loss—