Quotes About Loss

My little boy was no more and even though he'd come home for vacations, our relationship would never be quite the same. Just as he would have to learn to be an adult in the world, so would I have to learn to live without him.

Whenever someone who knows you disappears, you lose one version of yourself. Yourself as you were seen, as you were judged to be. Lover or enemy, mother or friend, those who know us construct us, and their several knowings slant the different facets of our characters like diamond-cutter's tools. Each such loss is a step leading to the grave, where all versions blend and end.

Wars have never hurt anybody except the people who die.

It's better to have loved and lost than do forty pounds of laundry a week.

My mother's death supervened, and this was the greatest blow I had experienced in my life. I worshipped her... I could not resign myself to the loss of a being on whom I counted to make invisible the unavoidable blemishes of my soul.

My mother's death supervened, and this was the greatest blow I had experienced in my life. I worshipped her... I could not resign myself to the loss of a being on whom I counted to make invisible the unavoidable blemishes of my soul." ? Salvador Dalí, The Secret Life of Salvador Dalí

There would be no sequel to the sadness

Noi, che vediamo le nostre città dilagare e dissolversi in anonime periferie-sprawl, e sappiamo che in quell'ambiente senz'anima cresceranno milioni di cittadini, nessuno dei quali saprà davvero che cosa è (meglio: che cosa fu) il paesaggio italiano fino a ieri celebrato. Siamo, ci sentiamo fuori luogo. Siamo spaesati, in senso sia metaforico che letterale.

Summer grasses: all that remains of great soldiers' imperial dreams

Consider it: every person you have ever met, every person will suffer the loss of his friends and family. All are going to lose everything they love in this world. Why would one want to be anything but kind to them in the meantime?

if zombies eat a family member, you're gonna dissociate

A pet peeve of mine is when fans start griping about a fighter who lost making excuses. Of course he's making excuses. This is his profession, he's going to get back in there, and for his sanity and mental strength he needs to have a reason he can point to for his loss. If he didn't make excuses, if he didn't have a reason to think he can win next time, how could he ever fight again?

I would like to give you more of my heart,but there is nothing more I can give you. I gave you everything and you crushed it into bits.

you don't have to be dead to haunt. Parents, songs, exes.

We didn't find him for three days because we didn't realize he was missing. That's the saddest part of this story. He'd hanged himself from a tree, one of several that grew in a small sliver of land between my parents' house and the neighbors', out by a swing set untouched for years. He timbered over like a sapling when my father cut him down, his body gone stiff.

How does she know herself without a mother? How does she know herself without sound? I guess she knows the shape of things that aren't there instead.

I discover her anew in each black cat I see ... And it is only when I try to touch her, to make her linger yet awhile, that she dies all over again. A snowflake in my hand...

My heart is empty. But my brain - my brain is full. It races with thoughts of what could have been.

I wish i had been there to hold his hand,brush the dark hair away from his cloudy blue eyes..whisper to him over and over that he was loved..

War, in some ways, is merciful to men. It makes them heroes if they are the victors. If they are the vanquished - they do not live to see their homes taken, their wives widowed. But if you are a woman - you must live through defeat...

The manic pursuit of success cost me everything I could love: my wife, my three children, some friends I would have liked to grow old with.

No, life ends and no, there is nothing elsewhere, and no question now of ever finding again that white speck lost in whiteness, to see if they still lie still in the stress of that storm, or of a worse storm, or in the black dark for good, or the great whiteness unchanging, and if not what they are doing.

An empty house is like a stray dog or a body from which life has departed.

It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all.