Quotes About Loss

in these fits of sad regret from which the latter years of few reflecting men can be free, religion would suffice to comfort him. Yes, religion could console him for the loss of any worldly good.

No one, probably, ever felt himself to be more alone in the world than our old friend,* the Duke of Omnium, when the Duchess died.

Lord George Gordon's own Narrative of these tumultuous events is not marked by any regrets: this, despite the colossal destruction and loss of life which had followed the presentation of the Petition which he had masterminded.

It is in their interests to have a stable, skilled labour force, a permanently well-adjusted complex, because the human complex (the collective worker) of an enterprise is also a machine which cannot, without considerable loss, be taken to pieces too often and renewed with single new parts.

Es terrible darse cuenta de que uno tiene algo cuando lo está perdiendo

Alguien dijo una vez, no sé quién, que el SIDA es como la guerra, son los padres los que despiden a sus hijos.

I saw then that he had lost touch with reality. He lived in a fantasy world of maps and flags.' For Behr, who had been an enthusiastic and 'nationalistic young German officer', the revelation came as a shock. 'It was the end of all my illusions about Hitler. I was convinced that we would now lose the war.

The smell of roasted flesh permeated the air for hours afterwards with the stench of oily-black smoke from the blazing vehicles . Gräbner's body was never identified among all the other carbonized corpses.

most unhappiness springs from conflict or grief

Just like I know that the stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, acceptance, or whatever - don't come in a neat order. Sometimes they return over and over, like waves that alternate between pulling you under and spitting you back onto the shore -Piper

Until recently, I lived in a world where lost things could always be replaced. But it has been made overwhelmingly clear to me now that anything you think is yours by right can vanish, and what you can do about that is nothing at all.

I cried only once during the twenty-one-hour flight. I was looking out the window at the moon and thinking of the last long trip I took across the sky, and of the person who went with me and didn't come back. For a while, it was as poisonous and wrenching as it had been since the day it happened, as intolerable: a crime against nature. Then the grief went back to sleep in my body. And it was again nature herself. Nature. Mother Nature. She is free to do whatever she chooses.

You have an affair to get for yourself what you wish would come from the person you love the most. And then you have broken her heart and she can never give you any of it ever again.

Grief is another world. Like the carnal world, it is one where reason doesn't work.

GRIEF IS A WORLD you walk through skinned, unshelled.

When I was young. When I had no idea that all over the city, all over the world, there were people walking around sealed in their own universes of loss, independent solar systems of suffering closed off from the regular world, where things make sense and language is all you need to tell the truth.

Grief is another world. Like the carnal world, it is one where reason doesn't work. Logically, I knew that the person I'd lost was not fully formed, that he was the possibility of a person. But without him I was gutted. If my baby could not somehow be returned to me, nothing would ever be right again. This bitter winter would go on forever.

In her ninety-fourth year of life, Tanya still talks about her late husband with rancid disgust.

Pete thinks we all have a blacking factory: some awful moment, early on, when we surrender our childish hearts as surely as we lose our baby teeth.

You don't really know for certain about a family until somebody dies. You don't know anything until that happens." She

The people beneath the pendulum were in their own orbits of bliss or grief, which Shawna did not want to invade. Instead she made her way upstairs, reading the inscriptions that caught her eye, moved by the sheer accumulation of loss. Grief-fiti. That's what it was.

Still, I gave her a call, wondering if she might have lost someone herself, but our talk was limited to the surreal events we'd just watched on television. A crisis does draw people together, but rarely for the right reason. The old wounds flare up again soon enough; the bond lasts no longer than the terror.

Niets is ondraaglijker dan geluk, het is alleen te doen als je weet dat je op het punt staat het te verliezen. Houden van is een activiteit voor vliegvelden en stations, en crematoria natuurlijk.

Alles wat je loslaat, alles wat van je wordt afgenomen maakt - doordat je het loslaat, doordat het van je wordt afgenomen - ruimte voor iets nieuws, misschien zelfs iets beters. De melancholie berust dikwijls op een verheerlijking van het verleden die dat verleden helemaal niet verdient. Alleen omdat we het verleden betrekkelijk goed kennen, omdat het ons zo vertrouwd voorkomt, denken we dat we daar thuishoren.