Quotes About Loss

Someone needs to tell them that they're better off without their coffee tables and photo albums. Some person will have to break it to them that their apartments weren't so great, that losing track of half their relatives is probably for the best. Some shit, though, you got to figure for yourself.

He noted a depth and sadness in Sun Moon's eyes, the faint lines around them bespeaking a resoluteness in the face of loss, and it took everything in him to suppress the memory of Rumina. And then the idea of a portrait, of any person, placed over your heart, forever, seemed irresisitible. How was it that we didn't walk around with every person who mattered tattoed on us forever?

This feeling of being in proximity to something that's lost to you, it seems like my whole life right now.

Nonc's pretty okay with the man's death, but the notion that he'll never get dressed again, that he's to die in a gown, seems strange and impossible.

Do you think the Dear Leader's line should be read 'Love knows no replacement,' as if it's unthinkable to search for a substitute for love, or 'Love knows no replacement,' suggesting that love is sentient and is itself at a loss to comprehend its absence?

The Second Mate closed his eyes for a moment. He removed his shoes, and now he had none. The look in his eyes said that the wrongest thing that had ever happened was happening right now. And then the shoes slipped from his hand and into the water. He pretended to look at the horizon so that no one would see his face.

Nothing last forever, but be honest babe, it hurts but it may be the only way.

Serce usta?o, pier? ju? lodowata, ?ci??y si? usta i oczy zawar?y; Na ?wiecie jeszcze, lecz ju? nie dla ?wiata! Có? to za cz?owiek? - Umar?y.

Nie ?am twych r?czek, niewiasto m?oda, Nie p?acz, i r?czek, i oczu szkoda. Ten, po kim p?aczesz, wzajem nie b?y?nie Okiem ku tobie, r?ki nie ?ci?nie.

Je?li, ?a?uj?c ?mierci dobrego dziedzica, Lud zakupion? ?wiec? stawia mu na grobie, W cieniach wieczno?ci ja?niej b?yszczy si? ta ?wiéca Ni? tysi?c lamp w niech?tnej palonych ?a?obie.

The sign that something does matter to us is that we lose our steadiness.

In shame there is a loss of interest in the external world, and a loss of interest in what is or may be good about the self. Shame is the ethnic cleansing of the self.

We always have competing wants, they are often incompatible, so in making choices essentials are sacrificed. Lives are tragic not merely when people can't have everything they want but when their wanting mutilates them; when what they want entails an unbearable loss.

Fifteen years ago I killed my sister.

I know you're upset, of course you're upset," said Pu Sto's simulacrum. "You're grieving. Of course you are. I know how much you loved her." "Love her," Alma corrected, holding up one finger. "A little thing like dying doesn't cast that mighty verb into the past tense, you know.

Unless action is taken soon - unless we can display the same vision of that earlier period - we will lose the treasure of California's open space and environmental beauty.

When you're dead, everything in the world is like a song that makes you cry.

There are songs that make you cry, right?" "Sure," I say. "When you're dead, everything in the world is like a song that makes you cry.

It was hard not to grieve for all the pleasant things that were gone. While they were there I had accepted them unthinkingly and without thanks.

I knew that I was the least-loved child because I was a girl and because my mother had died giving birth to me.

There was a time when a fool and his money were soon parted, but now it happens to everybody.

Particularly in the case of this war, one must never forget that if we lose it, we lose everything.

comfort to the families of those .who perished, and a final legacy to those who fell. But beyond that

A spirit of practicality had come to her aid. It was only human. When the earthquake stops, when the flood recedes, when the volcanic dust settles or the guns fall silent, the survivors pick their way through the rubble and debris and wreckage. A chair leg here, a first communion certificate or a bundle of love letters there. The flotsam and jetsam of the old ways?the ways that will never return.