Quotes About Loss

Ask yourself, dear Mr. Kappus, whether you really have lost God? Is it not rather, that you have never yet possessed him? For when should that have been? Do you not believe that a child can hold him, him whom men bear only with effort and whose weight compresses the old? Do you believe that anyone who really has him could lose him like a little stone, or do you not think rather that whoever had him could only be lost by him?

Each person loses himself then for the other's sake and loses the other and many more who were yet to come.

EÈ™ti miza jocului pe care de-l câÈ™tigi pierzi tot.

Losing is also ours; and even forgetting/ has a shape in the permanent realm of mutation./ Things we've let go of circle; and though we are rarely a center/ of these circles: they trace around us the unbroken figure.

Was berechtigt Sie dann, ihn, welcher niemals war, wie einen Vergangenen zu vermissen und zu suchen, als ob er verloren wäre?

I could feel their eyes, saw them all and saw too the time when they would know that my prospects were ended and saw already the contempt they'd feel for me, a college man who had lost his prospects and pride. I could see it all and I knew that even the officials and the older men would despise me as though, somehow, in losing my place in Bledsoe's world I had betrayed them . . . I saw it as they looked at my overalls.

They were all such a part of that other life that's dead that I can't remember them all. (Time was as I was, but neither that time nor that I are anymore.)

Can I say in twenty minutes what was building twenty-one years and ended in twenty seconds?

people face Death and even go a piece with him and then wrestle with him and get away, thank the Lord, and return. Yes, but how many have I seen pass on and

What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do? What a waste, what a senseless waste!

Of all the ways to lose a person, death is the kindest.

Society never advances. It recedes as fast on one side as it gains on the other. It undergoes continual changes; it is barbarous, it is civilized, it is christianized, it is rich, it is scientific; but this change is not amelioration. For every thing that is given, something is taken.

For every grain of wit, there is a grain of folly. For everything you have missed, you have gained something else; and for everything you gain, you lose something

1842  Son Waldo (age 5) dies of scarlet fever.  Journalist Walt Whitman (age 23) attends Emerson's lecture on poetry in New York City. In his report for the New York Aurora, Whitman writes that it was the "richest and most beautiful" lecture he'd ever heard. On the same New York trip, Emerson becomes godfather to newborn William James, son of his friend, Henry James, Sr.

For everything you have missed you have gained something else, and for everything you gain you lose something else.

In Scotland, there is a rapid loss of all grandeur of mien and manners; a provincial eagerness and acuteness appear; the poverty of the country makes itself remarked, and a coarseness of manners; and, among the intellectual, is the insanity of dialectics.

The south-wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire, But over the dead he has no power, The lost, the lost he cannot restore, And, looking over the hills, I mourn The darling who shall not return.

Sweet is death forevermore.

Most of us find it very difficult to want "Heaven" at all—except in so far as "Heaven" means meeting again our friends who have died. One reason for this difficulty is that we have not been trained: our whole education tends to fix our minds on this world. Another reason is that when the real want for Heaven is present in us, we do not recognize it. C. S. Lewis

we are not "to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope" (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Our parting is not the end of our relationship, only an interruption.

SCRIVEN (1820–1886) wrote "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" after his fiancée drowned. George Matheson (1842–1906) wrote "O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go" after his fiancée rejected him because he was going blind.

All your life an unattainable ecstasy has hovered just beyond the grasp of your consciousness. The day is coming when you will wake to find, beyond all hope, that you have attained it, or else, that it was within your reach and you have lost it forever.

If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames" (1 Corinthians 3:12-15).

He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose." —Jim Elliot