Quotes About Loss

Perhaps the hardest thing about losing a lover is to watch the year repeat its days. It is as if I could dip my hand down into time and scoop up blue and green lozenges of April heat a year ago in another country. I can feel that other day running underneath this one like an old videotape

When you are falling in love it is always already too late: d?ute, as the poets say.

It is generally anger dreams that occupy my nights now. This is not uncommon after loss of love— blue and black and red blasting the crater open. I am interested in anger.

Water is something you cannot hold. Like men. I have tried, Father, brother, lover, true friends, hungry ghosts and God, one by one all took themselves out of my hands.

perhaps you know that Ingeborg Bachmann poem from the last years of her life that begins "I lose my screams" dear Antigone, I take it as the task of the translator to forbid that you should ever lose your screams

Who ever desires what is not gone? No one. The Greeks were clear on this. They invented eros to express it.

Love does not happen without loss of vital self. The lover is the loser. Or so he reckons. But his reckoning involves a

And the reason he cannot bear her dying is not the loss of her (which is the future) but that dying puts the two of them (now) into this nakedness together that is unforgivable.

In later years this is the one memory he wishes would go away and not come back. And the reason he cannot bear her dying is not the loss of her (which is the future) but that dying puts the two of them (now) into this nakedness together that is unforgiveable. They do not forgive it. He turns away. This roaring air in his arms. She is released.

I cannot not grieve.

HE WAS FOURTEEN it was years ago and Sad's name wasn't Sad yet. First comet. G had just stumbled off a bus they looked at one another and that lasted until G was almost twenty but he. Well. Being a loyal soul himself. Sad's need to make friends everywhere. Sex friends club friends gym friends dope friends shopping friends breakdown friends a common enough problem. Sad didn't see a problem. One day he looked around and G was gone.

nothing vast enters the lives of mortals without ruin

As tree shapes from mist / Her young death / Loose / In you.

Nothing is as it was before, after the screen has gone to black. Darkness lies on the soul. To use Beckett's phrase, "what cowers behind it begins to seep through." With her new shopping cart Hekabe, queen of Troy, will be prowling the aisled for dog biscuits.

On the Rules of Perspective A bad trick. Mistake. Dishonesty. These are the views of Braque. Why? Braque rejected perspective. Why? Someone who spends his life drawing profiles will end up believing that man has one eye, Braque felt. Braque wanted to take full possession of objects. He said as much in published interviews. Watching the small shiny planes of the landscape recede out of his grasp filled Braque with loss so he smashed them. Nature morte, said Braque.

stolen my reasoning mind" (Theognis 1271). Eros is expropriation. He robs the body of limbs, substance, integrity and leaves the lover, essentially, less. This

I stopped watching. I forgot about Nudes. I lived my life, which felt like a switched-off TV. Something had gone through me and out and I could not own it.

Perhaps the hardest thing about losing a lover is to watch the year repeat its days. It is as if I could dip my hands down into time and scoop up blue and green lozenges of April heat a year ago in another country.

Nothing is as it was before, after the screen has gone to black. Darkness lies on the soul. To use Beckett's phrase, "what cowers behind it begins to seep through." With her new shopping cart Hekabe, queen of Troy, will be prowling the aisle for dog biscuits.

Watching the small shiny planes of the landscape recede out of his grasp filled Braque with loss so he smashed them. Nature morte, said Braque.

When I desire you a part of me is gone...

Give me a world, you have taken the world I was.

Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.

This is what remains. Magical objects with the magic gone out of them. A few cassettes and no tape machine on which they can be played.