Quotes About Loss

Et le spectacle tragique de la salle se terminait en une espèce de parodie, les vieillards s'agitant comme des enfants, les uns prêts à rire, les autres à pleurer, parce qu'ils retrouvaient si vivement en eux la trace de ce qui était perdu. Alors je me dis que c'était trop cruel à la fin et que jamais plus je n'emmènerais Nil chanter pour rappeler l'espoir.

Everyone dies. You needn't go on about it so.

But the lost one is with you. Her tenderness strengthens you, Her gaiety uplifts you, Her honor purifies you. More than memory, The lost one is found.

Your mother was beautiful." His voice was regretful. "I'm sorry she's dead.

Hard farewell, With no greeting to come. Sad farewell, When love is torn away. Long farewell, Till Death dies. "But the lost one is with you. Her tenderness strengthens you, Her gaiety uplifts you, Her honor purifies you. More than memory, The lost one is found.

Everyone called it losing Mother, but she wasn't lost. She was gone, and no matter where I went—another town, another country, Fairyland, or Gnome Caverns—I wouldn't find her.

Squashed behind The Cloud of Unknowing we discovered a pocket-size spiral notebook with a day-by-day account of the time Justin had stayed with her and her husband after Tommy's death. The writing was legible though it required effort (this was before she took her calligraphy course), but Justin was ecstatic and asked if he could have the little notebook. "This is my history," he said. Later, after he had deciphered every last word: "Boy, was I loved.

People commit thousands of small suicides every day that go unnoticed

I have been in my bed for five weeks, oppressed with weakness and other infirmities from which my age, seventy four years, permits me not to hope release. Added to this (proh dolor! [O misery!]) the sight of my right eye — that eye whose labors (dare I say it) have had such glorious results — is for ever lost. That of the left, which was and is imperfect, is rendered null by continual weeping.

Their looks and personalities were still intact, but some thing had atrophied ever so slightly. Their faces bore the distinct wear of goals gone too long unfulfilled.

Is there a mechanism of death, that so mutilates existence no one, gets over it not even the dead?

Love is the religion that bereaves the bereft.

Lo único que me duele de morir, es que no sea de amor.

You do not defend a world that is already lost.

If you value your wins and you value what you've done over the course of your career, then you wouldn't want people harboring over a loss, even though you fought extremely well.

I remember virtually everything about every loss. And the wins are hardly memorable.

I think that when somebody loses a bet, they tend to sometimes confuse their motives in rooting and enjoying the game because if you lose your bet, even though the team you're rooting for wins, you have a potentially conflicted outcome.

When I was growing up reading history books as a young student, it seemed all wars had a winner. Yet in today's wars, it is increasingly clear that no one wins. Everyone loses.

Wins are big boosts for your confidence, but sometimes you don't notice little things. When you lose a game, it means that the opponent has had a plan, and it's worked - now we need to see our capacity for response.

You'll remember every damn loss. But the wins? You don't necessarily remember.

We have this beautiful tradition at Bayern that we all get together with our families after the game in a room and celebrate the wins. That is why it hurts a lot more when we lose.

Everyone kept saying, 'The terrorists didn't win. You won! We won! You survived!' That's just weird to me. Nobody wins in these situations. I don't see winners and losers in tragic events.

I have developed a nasty habit of losing to the guy who wins the tournament, and that alone makes you think what you could have achieved.

I'm telling you, until I shaved my head, I never realized how much heat is lost through the top of the head. I walk out in winter and it feels like I have an ice pack on my head. Unbelievable.