Quotes About Loss

Loss is the hardest thing, I said. But it's also the teacher that's the most difficult to ignore.

My family and I are heartbroken after hearing the news that more than 100 innocent children and teachers have lost their lives...

In this age of censorship, I mourn the loss of books that will never be written, I mourn the voices that will be silenced-writers' voices, teachers' voices, students' voices-and all because of fear.

The memories were so vivid that the book dropped from my hand and my eyes filled with tears.

How do you lose a word? Does it vanish into your memory, like an old toy in a chest, and lie hidden in the cobwebs and dust, waiting to be cleaned out or rediscovered?

It's something you don't see until it's gone-the shapes and things have and the ways in which the people around you mould the shapes.

It was as if an embankment had been swept away and I (Neel ) were floundering in a flood , trying not to drown in my grief.

Even after she disappeared, it did not settle at once, but continued to make waves and produced a trickling, rustling sound that Shmuel hoped would not die away too soon.

So the man was sad! Of course, he was in mourning. He had just lost his wife, what — a few months ago? What a luxury, she thought enviously, that he could mourn his loss like this when her husband had disappeared. She would have liked to give up on life and cry until she was empty of tears; instead she had to brave a refugee camp, a new country, and now a whole new language.

As hard as it is, grieving can be a gift, if we use it to examine our own lives and come closer to those we love.

When my mother died, my father's early widowhood gave him social cachet he would not have had if they had divorced. He was a bigger catch for the sorrow attached.

I was with a girlfriend of mine last night and we were talking about David Foster Wallace. It's been three years since he killed himself, I said. And she said, Yep. Waited a beat. And he's still dead.

Death demands its own designated punctuation mark. Maybe: ______ died/ It is a dividing line / everything on this side is different.

Time is the wave upon the shore. It takes some things away, but it brings other things.

To come so far, to lose so much and to find nothing. -Jing-mei

I think now that fate is half shaped by expectation, half by inattention. But somehow, when you lose something you love, faith takes over. You have to pay attention to what you lost. You have to undo the expectation.

That is the saddest part when you lose someone you love - that person keeps changing. And later you wonder, Is this the same person I lost? Maybe you lost more maybe less, then thousand different things that come from your memory or imagination - and you do not know which is which, which was true, which is false.

I think Kwan intended to show me the world is not a place but the vastness of the sou. And the soul is nothing more than love, limitless, endless, all that moves us toward knowing what is true....If people we love die, then they are lost only to our ordinary senses. If we remember, we can find them anytime with our hundred secret senses.

Dementia. Ruth puzzled over the diagnosis: How could such a beautiful-sounding word apply to such a destructive disease? It was a name befitting a goddess: Dementia, who caused her sister Demeter to forget to turn winter into spring.

the world is not a place but the vastness of the soul. And the soul is nothing more than love, limitless, endless, all that moves us toward knowing what is true. . .And believing in ghosts - that's believing that love never dies. If people we love die, then they are lost only to our ordinary senses. If we remember, we can find them anytime with our hundred secret senses.

But later that day, the streets of Kweilin were strewn with newspapers reporting great Kuomintang victories, and on top of these papers, like fresh fish from a butcher, lay rows of people - men, women and children who had never lost hope, but had lost their lives instead.

To save myself, I destroyed another, and in doing so, I destroyed myself.

Even though I did not understand her entire story, I understood her grief.

We were all afraid. We all had our miseries. But to despair was to wish back for something already lost. Or to prolong what was already unbearable.