Quotes About Loss

Porque nada glorifica más a Dios, que el que mantengamos nuestra estabilidad y nuestro gozo cuando lo perdemos todo menos a Él. Ese día nos llegará a todos y cada uno de nosotros, y haríamos bien en prepararnos, y ayudar a prepararse a las personas que amamos.

If God alone is enough to support joy when all else is lost, it is a miracle of grace.

Once we love, we are vulnerable: there is no such things as loving while being ready to consider whether to love, just like that. And the loves that may hurt the least are not the best loves. When we love we accept the dangers of injury and loss.

And then, before I knew it, Duke was dead. . . . He was a truckdriver, and sometimes we were so poor we couldnt even make it: I had to hustle in drag in order to keep us going

A few of the people I had known were gone—even in that short time—back to the Midwest or to Times Square, or had been busted, or moved to Coffee Andy's in Hollywood, or gone to Golden Miami. They had disappeared, one day: One day youre here and thats fine, and the next day your gone and thats fine too, and someone has that very day come in to take your place whatever it might have been.

I stand on 42nd Street and Broadway looking at the sign flashing the news from Times Tower like a scoreboard: The World is losing.

The world was revealing its death to me by the process of slow discovery: the slowly gnawing loss of innocence; and I found myself longing for the God in Whom, unquestionably, I had believed as a child. But this world of loneliness and desperation belied Him. The sky was now a black cave where once it had been limitless, stretching into that Heaven of childhood angels and peace.

And the fierce wind is an echo of angry childhood and of a very scared boy looking out the window—remembering my dead dog outside by the wounded house as the gray Texas dust gradually covered her up—and thinking: It isnt fair! Why cant dogs go to Heaven?

And the next moment the fierce wind comes screaming, whirling the needle-pointed dust, stifling all hope. And you know then that what has not happened will never happen. That hope is an end within itself. And the fierce wind is an echo of angry childhood and of a very scared boy looking out the window—remembering my dead dog outside by the wounded house as the gray Texas dust gradually covered her up—and thinking: It isnt fair! Why cant dogs go to Heaven?

The quavering, sensual voice of Elvis Presley is coming from the juke-box in lonesome, sad, sustained, orgasmic moans: The bell-hop's tears keep flowing The desk clerk's dressed in black. Ã¢â'¬Â¦

She felt that she'd been watching a shadow. A shadow of the dead.

For as much as I hate the cemetery, I've been grateful it's here, too. I miss my wife. It's easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she's never been anything but dead, than to miss her in all the places where she was alive.

I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday. I visited my wife's grave. Then I joined the army. Visiting Kathy's grave was the less dramatic of the two.

What is it like when you lose someone you love?" Jane asked. "You die, too. And you wait around for your body to catch up.

Your parents are never gone from you. You'll see that someday, hopefully a very long time from now.

Every time I paint a portrait I lose a friend.

I do not dream anymore, nor do I sleep. My days are empty, my nights endless. My only thought is of her, this murderer. But despite what you say, she brings me life.

My thoughts were gentle, not so long ago. I no longer have that luxury.

It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.

Grief has a ruthless commonality.

Politics thrives on simple, clean messages, something that played to Obama's advantage in 2008. Stagnant unemployment and the loss of America's AAA rating are as simple and tough as they come. This is the economy on Obama's watch, and there's no one left to blame.

I made an effort to speak: "When I came in here…" I said, "… I had a sandwich." "That was three months ago," said the doctor. I looked at him. "It's gone," he said, gently. I lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Over Emily's grave, Peach said the Lord's Prayer in a

While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet him behind the veil.