Quotes About Loss

I feel the hollow in my heart that's been there ever since my mom died. 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.

Minha irmã morreu de leucemia e vocês tinham que ver as flores e a empatia. - Ela levanta as mãos e, mesmo do outro lado da mesa, consigo ver as cicatrizes. - Mas quando eu quase morri, ninguém mandou flores. Fui considerada egoísta e louca por desperdiçar minha vida sendo que a da minha irmã tinha sido tirada. [...] - Não me entendam mal, prefiro estar aqui a estar morto, mas às vezes sinto que tudo que fazia de mim quem eu era foi embora.

That's my lipstick on Ryan Cross's lips. Oh. My. God. I wish I had a photograph of my face in that exact instant so I could remember myself the way I used to be. That instant was the last good moment before everything turned bad and changed forever.

I could sink like a stone into the earth and be swallowed whole by the weight of what happened here.

The Boy Violet Markey Loves

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 feel a lot of nothing these days. I've cried a few times, but mostly I'm empty, as if whatever makes me feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving me hollowed out like a shell.

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.

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.

People rarely bring flowers to a suicide.

You saved my life. Why couldn't I save yours?

I should be happy, but instead I feel nothing. I feel a lot of nothing these days. I've cried a few times, but mostly I'm empty, as if whatever makes me feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving me hollowed out like a shell.

Hava is missing. She went for a short walk on the street and never came back.

Every single evening, for over fifty years, Sylvia has said Kaddish—the prayer for the dead. She prays for her little friends Hava and Itka. Then she prays for all the others—uncles, cousins, neighbors, and strangers—who perished in the war. Their voices were silenced years ago. Now Sylvia has spoken up to remember them, and to share her memories so that we will never forget.

and a person is dead.

I'm not a little child anymore. I know that she means they might be dead, not just in another place somewhere, but it doesn't make sense that all those people are dead. It's impossible.

Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it, or never to have had it?

After she packed her few bags into the back of her car and hugged him, Rosalind never saw him again. After a few weeks it was like she'd never known him at all, like summer friendships she'd strike up as a child when the family stayed a few weeks at the beach or another city. The friendship was site specific. She couldn't miss it any more than she'd miss the Eiffel Tower in her backyard. It was where it belonged, somewhere in the past.

It's the worst feeling," she said staring off vaguely, lost in another decade, "it's really the most shattering moment when you stop being enchanting to someone else. You're suddenly,,,just this person. And so is he.

He loved me. He loved me, but he doesn't love me anymore, and it's not the end of the world.

The truth is, what I learned this year is that life is hard...Good people die for no reason. Little kids get sick. The people that are supposed to love you end up leaving.

My friend Doggie was gone, and I never even got a chance to say good-bye to him for keeps.

Let those strikes of lightning come so we will quickly know what leaves us.

Our drive to keep and preserve seems to have achieved only the obliteration of self and memory.