Quotes About Loss

A young man seeks a woman and finds her and is great and dies to the world. Afterward he is never as great again, but the woman is a comfort to him, reminding him of the time that was, and he is a little again with her what once he was wholly.

She sighed, and all the gladness went out of her face, as the sunlight leaves the stone where a beggar seeks to warm himself.

The past stood at my shoulder, naked and defenseless as all dead things, as though it were time itself that had been laid open by the fall of the mountain.

I love you, but you are another death, a death that has stayed with me and befriended me as the old death in the lake did, but death all the same.

The heart remembers even when no trace of face or voice remains.

A knight," I told myself, "doesn't bother to count the enemy." Another step, and another. "But I wish I'd found Disiri—that I could see her once more before I go." Ben, I cannot tell you how I knew then that I was going to lose even the memory of her. But I did.

Then he was gone, and the girl lay hugging her child, looking through the leaves at the bright band of The Waterfall and the broad seas and scattered storms of sisterworld. Then her eyes closed, and she could pull sisterworld from the tree. She put the blue rind to her lips and tasted sweetness. Then she woke again, the sweet juice still in her mouth. Someone was bending over her, and for a moment she was afraid.

I thought I saw something and borrowed his big brass telescope. And there it was. The tall, proud trees and the waves lapping a beach of blood-colored sand. I looked and looked, and pretty soon I started to cry. If I could tell you why, I would, but I cannot. Tears ran down my face, and I could not breathe right. I took the telescope down and wiped my eyes and blew my nose. And when I looked again, it was gone.

However much I love a woman—or however little—I find I want her most when I can no longer have her.

People get old, get sick and die. Or they die suddenly. Or their deaths drag on forever. My friend Tory is dying a slow, excruciatingly painful death of bone cancer. Eight friends have died of breast cancer. Polar bears are dying. Honeybees are vanishing. The oceans are drying up. There is a part of me that wants my money back. That wants to say, 'I didn't sign up for this. I don't like the way this whole thing is set up and I won't participate in it.

Mingus had always known that that was what the blues was: music played to the dead, calling them back, showing them the way back to the living. Now he realized part of the blues was the opposite of that: the desire to be dead yourself, a way of helping the living find the dead.

The recruits of 1914 have the look of ghosts. They are queuing up to be slaughtered: they are already dead.

This is what books only aimed to do and never could. Give you the glint of someone else's sunrise, what living is really like, you get old and it hurts to bend your elbow; your friends start to die, you can't get fresh fruit in the shops.

Everything goes, everything is lost, eventually. But if something is good, it doesn't matter what happens. The ending is still happy.

you are the cause by which I die

For, as Seneca said, 'Loss of chattels may recovered be, but time, once lost, we shall never see.' It will not come again, without doubt, no more than will Molly's maidenhead, when she has lost it because of her wantonness. Let us not grow mouldy thus in idleness.

Lost money is not lost beyond recall, But loss of time brings on the loss of all.

When I heard that she was dead, I really suffered very little.

Even in the twenty-first century, we still can't buy sane parents, successful siblings, or sensible children. We can't even buy decent replacements for biological adaptations that go wrong -artificial eyes, brains, hands, or wombs. Our bodily organs are the most value-dense items that we can call our own. They are beyond price, but we take them for granted until we lose them through accident or age.

Oh,eine sterbende Liebe ist schöner als eine werdende

Look around! Everything's rigid, hard, dark, what lies beneath it all? Something we don't understand. God's gone. Everything's gone.

por lo poco que el espíritu necesita para contentarse, puede medirse la extensión de lo que ha perdido.

What you are to do without me I cannot imagine.

You have learnt something. That always feels at first as if you have lost something.