Quotes About Loss

I think that there are few people in one's life that you never really feel that they're gone. I have to remind myself that she isn't around.

My old friend Jack Benny has only had one ball all his golfing life. And now he's lost it. The string came off!

The saddest day of my life was the day I didn't get to play football anymore.

Life is mostly just learning how to lose.

It is his absence that is part of me and has been for years. This is who I am, perhaps who we all are, keepers of the absent and the dead. It is the blessing and burden of being alive.

You said there was nothing in the world you wanted" The Queen's eyes glittered. "When you imagine your life without him, do you still feel the same?

I would have given it up--all of it up--to be married to you for a day. A day that would never have come. You are a reminder--a reminder of everything I am losting. The Life I will not have.

And I have to tell you, as tough as farming is, the idea of farming when you're losing money year after year... that's not life even, that's like death. That's eternal damnation.

We have to gamble, and sometimes lose as George Ainslie argues; this keeps the appetite for life sharp.

I can't even think about what life "could have been" like in Boston, without crying. It's like deja-vu, I don't think me and Boston were ever meant to be.

There was no quick grief for Andrew because he had been so slowly lost. First from my heart, then from my mind, and only finally from my life.

Four months is a lot of living with that little life in you - thinking about it, eating right for it, nurturing it and all of a sudden, it dies.

How do I explain a life that has lasted for billions of years? It is almost as if I must start with an apology for being alive when everyone I once knew is dead.

What kind of life am i supposed to have without you?You were the one good thing,the only good thing i ever found.

The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.

For some we loved, the loveliest and the bestThat from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest.

There was the Door to which I found no Key;There was the Veil through which I might not see.Some little talk awhile of Me and TheeThere was—and then no more of Thee and Me.

I keep scraping the canvas And painting him over again But he keeps slipping away

I did not know the work of mourning Is a labor in the dark We carry inside ourselves

When Ungaretti lost his nine-year-old boy He understood that death is death In an extremely brutal way It was the most terrible event of my life I know what death means I knew it even before But when the best part of me was ripped away I experienced death in myself From that moment on It would strike me as shameless To talk about it That pain will never stop tormenting me

I did not know the work of mourning Is like carrying a bag of cement Up a mountain at night

He could never stand still but now Something that had once been my son Lay there restless spirit Who left the house one rainy night And never returned Lost boy Who will never be found again Anywhere but eternity

As you know so well, the passage of time never really heals the tragic memory of such a great loss, but we carry on, because we have to, because our loved one would want us to, and because there is still light to guide us in the world from the love they gave us.

The Pobble who has no toesHad once as many as we;When they said, "Some day you may lose them all"—He replied, "Fish fiddle-de-dee!"