Quotes About Loss

But in a confused way I felt that if I ran away with the others I would leave with her something of mine that she would never give back.

2007), and The Lost Daughter

He's gone, you're still here. You'll no longer enjoy the gleam of his eyes, of his words, but so what? Organize your defenses, preserve your wholeness, don't let yourself break like an ornament, you're not a knickknack, no woman is a knickknack.

Eu não conseguia mais ser inocente, por trás dos pensamentos havia outros pensamentos, a infância tinha terminado. Eu me esforçava, mas a infância fugia, as lágrimas que eu sentia o tempo todo nos olhos eram o oposto de uma prova de inocência.

Lui crede che mi ha privata di qualcosa, con quello che m'ha fatto. Ma non mi ha privata di niente, io ho avuto tutto, io ho tutto. È tuo padre che non ha niente.

Ti ricordi quello che facemmo con la mia foto di sposa? Voglio continuare per quella strada. Viene il giorno che mi riduco tutta a diagrammi, divento un nastro bucherellato e non mi trovi più.

É tão fácil — pensei — morrer precisamente na vida das pessoas sem as quais não podemos viver?

Losing your anchor, feeling yourself to be light is not an advantage, it's cruel to yourself and to others.

How and when words escape from books and the books end up seeming like empty graves is something to think about.

This is more or less what happened to me between the end of 1963 and the end of 1965. How easy it is to tell the story of myself without Lila: time quiets down and the important facts slide along the thread of the years like suitcases on a conveyor belt at an airport; you pick them up, put them on the page, and it's done.

an old photograph of my sisters and me with our father. The photograph was ruined. Those images of us from so long ago were yellowed, cracked, like the figures of winged demons in certain altarpieces that the faithful have defaced with pointed objects.

El pasado ofrecía el encanto de lo irrecuperable. Lo perdido se convierte en algo precioso, en algo apenas entrevisto, evocado casi a voluntad, en la esencia más pura del presente.

Dios ciega al que quiere perder.

En ese instante retrocedían a un lugar sin lugar, sin espacio, sin luz. Solo le quedaba el recuerdo del peso de las catedrales sobre sus cuerpos sin cuerpo. Perdió su otra memoria y perdió también el privilegio de la luz asombrosa. —

Te fuiste sin llevarte nada, entregaste la casa a un hostelero sin escrúpulos. Abandonaste todo y todo se ha perdido. -Nada se ha perdido si nos hemos encontrado.-Leonora tiembla pero Max no la escucha.

El olor de la muerte es inconfundible; es un olor a cuerpo sin alma. Las pequeñas cabezas de muñecas, los carritos de niños, las partituras de música, el almanaque, los restos de múltiples colchones, ropas desperdigadas, sólo el teclado de un piano, tendido de fatiga sobre la tierra, todo ello conforma el lenguaje de los escombros.

El fuego arde en las entrañas de Leonora, nunca ha experimentado algo semejante: -¿Es esto el amor? Max le responde que el amor nace del deseo por alguien y que Nietzsche dijo: -<> -¿Y qué pasa si descubrimos su imperfección? -Viene el desamor.

En el baldío de la calle y en el baldío del corazón, ni quien preguntara por los idos.

but just as you become impregnated with someone, even after that someone is gone, that is how Lilus remained

De pronto la miro y ya no está. Vuelvo a mirarla, la define su ausencia. Ha ido a unirse a lago que le da fuerza y no sé lo que es. No puedo seguirla, no entiendo hacia qué espacio invisible se ha dirigido, qué aire inefable la resguarda y la aísla; desde luego ya no está en el mundo y por más que manoteo no me ve, permanece siempre fuera de mi alcance. Sé que mi amor la sustenta, claro, pero su ausencia es sólo suya y en ella no tengo cabida.

Matar a un joven es matar la esperanza. • Cristina Correa de Salas, maestra de primaria

In waking life (just now), if I read his face like a card there is a reversal of fortunes, for I am the body he did not help, and when a body dies we can no longer study the hynger paths so that when I speak of him, instead of saying "father", I must say "your father" or "this man I knew" or "this dead man's eyebrow." What is a dead man? What does a dead man?

In waking life (just now), if I read his face like a card there is a reversal of fortunes, for I am the body he did not help, and when a body dies we can no longer study the hunger paths so that when I speak of him, instead of saying "father," I must say "your father" or "this man I knew" or "this dead man's eyebrow." What is a dead man? What does a dead man?

Only yesterday an express train tore up a whole flock of sheep not far from here, over forty dead animals, flung through the air like cotton-wool balls, the good shepherd fallen asleep drunk somewhere, the dog in the field alone, not a hope. Now the shepherd has to bear joint responsibility for the whole loss, or don't you think he bears a responsibility, dear television audience, write and let us know what you think, it's your views that count.