Quotes About Loss

Lest Love should value less What loss would value more, Had it the stricken privilege --- It cherishes before.

The Babies we were are buried, and their shadows are plodding on.

XXXVII. The dying need but little, dear, —    A glass of water's all, A flower's unobtrusive face    To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend's regret,    And certainly that one No color in the rainbow    Perceives when you are gone.

When I lost the use of my Eyes it was a comfort to think there were so few real books that I could easily find some one to read me all of them.

Love's stricken why Is all that love can speak— Built of but just a syllable, The hugest hearts that break.

Piangere è una piccola cosa - cosa tanto breve un sospiro. Ma cose di tale grandezza uccidono uomini e donne.

The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear; Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year. And then, that we have followed them We more than half suspect, So intimate have we become With their dear retrospect.

Hace unos cuantos días perdí un mundo, ¿no lo ha encontrado nadie? Lo reconoceréis por una sarta de estrellas que le ciñen la cabeza.

The Bustle in a House The Morning after Death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon Earth — The Sweeping up the Heart And putting Love away We shall not want to use again Until Eternity —

Se remémorer Un Plaisir qui nous fut Retiré - Offre une Félicité comparable à un Meurtre - Omnipotente - Aiguë - Nous ne lâcherons pas le Poignard - Car Nous aimons la Blessure Que le Poignard Commémore - c'est Lui Qui Nous rappelle que Nous avons péri -

When the Best is gone - I know that other things are not of consequence - The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care.

When roses cease to bloom, dear

I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the row of stars Around its 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!

parting is all we need to know of hell

Cada uno de los seres que perdemos algo nuestro se lleva, aunque dejándonos como un cuarto menguante y en las noches mas turbias va a recibir lo mismo que la luna la llamada fatal de las mareas.

I felt a funeral in my brain

There's been a death in the opposite house

Each that we lose takes part of us; A crescent still abides, Which like the moon, some turbid night, Is summoned by the tides.

To lose what we never owned might seem an eccentric Bereavement but Presumption has its Affliction as actually as Claim —

I could not die with you, For one must wait To shut the other's gaze down,— You could not.

Sometimes there are no happy endings, No matter what, I'll be losing something, someone. But maybe that's what it all comes down to. Love, not as a surge of passion, but as a choice to commit to something, someone, no matter what obstacles or temptations stand in the way. And maybe making that choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year, says more about love than never having a choice to make at all.

Someday being with Dex will be a distant memory. This fact makes me sad too. Its the initial stages of grief that seem to be worst but in some ways, Its sadder as time goes by and you consider how much they're missed in your life.

And although one broken heart doesn't make me an expert in the subject, I believe you need both things - time and an emotional replacement - to fully mend one.

how much have i changed. i was a parent-pleaser, a dutiful friend. i made safe, careful choices and hoped that things would fall into place for me. but i have learned that you make your own happiness, that part of going for what you want means losing something else. and when the stakes are high, the losses can be that much greater