Quotes About Loss

The sadness was I'd lost a father I had never fully found. It's like a tune that ends before you've heard it out. Your whole life through you search to catch the strain, and seek the face you've lost in strangers' faces.

Your father lies beneath a stone,' old Aedwen mumbles, dozing at her wheel, and Godric thinks how it's a stone as well they're all beneath. The stone is need and hurt and gall and tongue-tied longing, for that's the stone that kinship always bears, yet the loss of it would press more grievous still.

Every retreat is a kind of funeral cortège, and the thing that has died is confidence.

The funeral was beautiful. I didn't mind it, really. It wasn't exactly Pop's funeral, to me. When I'd been alone with him, there in the little room, well, that was it, as far as I was concerned. I'd said good-bye to him, sort of, then. This was just something you had to go through with, on account of other people and out of respect for Pop.

Hälfte des Lebens Mit gelben Birnen hänget Und voll mit wilden Rosen Das Land in den See, Ihr holden Schwäne, Und trunken von Küssen Tunkt ihr das Haupt Ins heilignüchterne Wasser. Weh mir, wo nehm' ich, wenn Es Winter ist, die Blumen, und wo Den Sonnenschein, Und Schatten der Erde? Die Mauern stehn Sprachlos und kalt, im Winde Klirren die Fahnen.

One has to take a somewhat bold and dangerous line with this existence: especially as, whatever happens, we are bound to lose it.

What does our great historical hunger signify, our clutching about us of countless cultures, our consuming desire for knowledge, if not the loss of myth, of a mythic home, the mythic womb?

Do you love tragedies and everything that breaks the heart?

Here is the great city: here have you nothing to seek and everything to lose.

The man looked up distrustfully. If you speak the truth, said he, I lose nothing when I lose my life. I am not much more than an animal which has been taught to dance by blows and a few scraps of food.

The tremendous historical need of our unsatisfied modern culture, the assembling around one of countless other cultures, the consuming desire for knowledge--what does all this point to, if not to the loss of myth, the loss of the mythical home, the mythical maternal womb?

That poem was not by me. It is among the things which quite overpower me; I have never been able to read it without tears coming to my eyes; it sounds like a voice for which I have been waiting and waiting since childhood. The poem is by my friend Lou... She is as shrewd as an eagle and brave as a lion, and yet still a very girlish child, who perhaps will not live long.

Hay quien no encuentra su corazón hasta que no pierde la cabeza.

Ohne Mythus aber geht jede Kultur ihrer gesunden schöpferischen Kraft verlustig: erst ein mit Mythen umstellter Horizont schließt eine ganze Kulturbewegung zur Einheit ab.

the one who had lost the world attains its own world

There are losses which communicate a sublimity to the soul which makes it refrain from lamentation and go about in silence as though among tall black cypress-trees.

From all around came very faintly a low sad hum, as the unhoused bees mourned.

The spirit, alas, is not the same thing as the consciousness and one may lose–sacrifice– the first and still be burdened with the second.

There are two ways of knowing how good God is: one is never to lose Him, and the other is to lose Him and then to find Him.

God does not always spare the good from grief. The Father spared not the Son, and the Son spared not the mother.

Posseït Sóc més lluny que estimar-te. Quan els cucs faran un sopar fred amb el meu cos trobaran un regust de tu. I ets tu que indecentment t'has estimat per mi fins al revolt: saciada de tu, ara t'excites, te me'n vas darrera d'un altre cos, i em refuses la pau. No sóc sinó la mà amb què tu palpeges.

The people one loves should take all their things with them when they die.

Preserving everything is a form of negligence that causes a new kind of damage: the loss of what matters in a glut of the insignificant. To preserve everything is to lose everything.

ils vont à dépenser je sais pas combien de millions pour des bateaux qui se font couler, pour des avions qui prennent en feu, pour des tanks qui durent pas trois jours. L'argent s'en va pour la destruction pis se détruit lui-même.