Quotes About Loss

You turn to shit, alright. But maybe you can leave something good behind you.' She barked empty laughter at him. 'What do we leave behind but things not done, not said, not finished? Empty clothes, empty rooms, empty spaces in the ones who knew us? Mistakes never made right and hopes rotted down to nothing?

Could the motive be nothing more than simple self-preservation? When you lose the instinct yourself, it's hard to remember how powerful it is for everyone else. He felt himself starting to smile.

She wished she had better words. Ones that somehow bound up all he'd been to her. All the things felt but never said. All the holes he'd leave behind. But how can you fit all that in a bit of breath? 'By

all trace of morning magnificence entirely wilted.

Strange thing, that–the fewer years you have to lose the more you fear the losing of 'em. Maybe a man just gets a stock of courage when he's born, and wears it down with each scrape he gets into.

War killed some soldiers, sure, but it left the rest with money, and songs to sing, and a fire to sit around. It killed a lot more farmers, and left the rest with nought but ashes.

But that's what war is. A lot of folk getting killed that don't deserve it.

Rulf laid a single arrow beside the body, and Koll reckoned he was struggling to keep back tears. 'From nothing, to nothing,' he croaked out. Father Yarvi laid his withered hand on the old helmsman's arm. 'But what a journey in between.

Perhaps they had discovered that when enemies fall, they leave a hole.

Î?i aminte?ti de mor?i cât po?i mai bine. Roste?ti câteva cuvinte pentru ei. Apoi mergi mai departe ?i speri la ceva mai bun.

And we who loved the world must learn the language of absence: days foreshortened, empty rooms, the irrevocable distance between the goodbye and the letting go.

The best days of summer are the days of summer gone.

I can't let them go, those days of summer gone.

Fear is recognition of loss of control, and it subsides when control returns," he says.

People had written about that, warfare based on attrition of wealth rather than loss of life. But it's always been easier to make new lives than new wealth.

You know someone for a while and then one day a hole opens underneath them, and they fall out of your world.

Everyone you lost was still there with you, and so maybe no one was ever lost at all.

Terry was cool, cooler then Ig would ever be, but he was afraid. His fear narrowed his vision so that he couldn't see anything except what he stood to lose.

Death is a raw deal for narrative junkies.

The dead pull the living down.

The dead win when you quit singing and let them take you on down the road with them.

She'd done things to him he thought only happened to characters in country-western songs, laying waste to his car, his dogs, driving him from his home, and making an outlaw of him. It was almost funny.

The child outliving the parents is the only happy story us human beings get.

He had been a demon for just two days, but the time when he knew what it was like to be loved seemed to exist in a hazily recalled past, to have been left behind long ago.