Quotes About Loss

I find it difficult to sleep. A sort of daydream, perhaps, reliving old times, trying to capture something of her, while there's still a flavour of her in the house. It's real, you know. A perfume. The shampoo she used, I think. Something else I can't pin down. I know it won't last for long.

It seemed to Vera now that the beauty of the eggs, the order, the strange friendships, had been all that had held him together through the depression following her mother's death. Or maybe he'd just been a selfish bastard, with a weird passion for collecting and owning things that would have been better left in the wild.

It was sudden thoughts about the things Maggie would have liked or pieces of gossip that he'd like to pass on that made grief come back and bite him on the bum.

the unfinished grieving, the foul, flat country.

No dignity in death and not much more when she was living

Vera had banned Sorry for your loss. 'We're not characters from an American cop show,' she'd yelled at

I'm not sure Catherine was very close to anybody. She didn't need people. Liz, my wife, was very different. She had so many friends. At her funeral the church was packed, people standing at the back, people I'd never met but who felt close to her, touched by her warmth. I don't know who will come when we bury Catherine. Not many people.' The statement almost took Perez's breath away.

Rick supposed there were worse ways to go than a fatal heart attack. Anything, surely, would be better than descending into dementia like Ken. The cloudy eyes and unfocused thoughts, the restless twitching of the hands. That was surely a kind of death. It was as if Ken was disappearing almost before their eyes but becoming at the same time deeper and more nuanced.

I don't have my own life any more.

Our stars are not where we last admired them. Our homes crumble and we don't know which place to long for.

We have become the charnel house of the Western World.

For thousands of years, we did have death surrounding us, and we did have people die in the home. You would take care of your own end. You would do ritual processes, and you would be involved in it, and that's been taken away in the Western world.

'The Virginian' has a very important romantic story line that you don't find in a lot of Westerns... At the heart of the story is quite a bit of pain and a sense of loss.

My dad started to watch westerns at dollar cinemas in Seoul and felt like America was a miraculous place. His family had lost a lot of land during the Korean War and the Japanese occupation. That affected him a lot as a kid. He always felt like he needed to come to the U.S. and get land.

This crowd did not diminish through the whole of that cold, wet day; they seemed not to know what was to by their fate since their great benefactor was dead, and though strong and brave men wept when I met them.

Our planet is dying. Whales will be extinct before we ever get to know them. They say these creatures are so intelligent. They may disappear from the face of the Earth before we know them, and that is a great tragedy.

So what if America loses its empire? We never should have had one in the first place.

It's hard when you lose your best players. It's tough. I'm not going to lie. It makes you think, 'What if they didn't leave?'

There are times you break up with a loved one, a friend, or whatever. You feel alone. It's a very easy feeling to understand - the feeling of loss, heartache, and pain.

I get heartbroken flying into L.A. It's just this feeling of unspecific loss. Can you imagine what the San Fernando Valley was when it was all wheat fields? Can you imagine what John Steinbeck saw?

My father had several strokes and heart attacks. I was with him when he died, and it was a horrible death. He had been a very articulate man, and to lose that, never to be able to speak properly and to be unable to move - he had always been a very vigorous man, so to be in a wheelchair and mumbling - was terrible.

I'd never seen my father stand up. As far as I can remember, my father was always in a wheelchair. I always remembered that. And I remember my first basketball game, ever, he rolls into the gym, he stays by the door and he watches me play. And that was the only game he ever saw me play because he passed away shortly after that.

All of a sudden, I don't have a leg. I'm in a wheelchair. I have half a foot; I can't even walk to the bathroom. I'm in a bed, I can't move, and I felt like those four walls were my prison.

Sometimes the wheels just fall off a relationship.