Quotes About Loss

Il tempo che niente può fermare non scorre solo per piangere sulle cose perdute ma anche per ottenere un'infinità di momenti bellissimi, uno dopo l'altro. Ah, questo è un piccolo premio, pensai.

I had never cried this way in my life. As the hot tears poured out, I remembered that I had never had a proper cry over my grandmother's death. I had a feeling that I wasn't crying over any one sad thing, but rather for many.

I don't think he was actually human. I really don't," I replied, investing these words with as much meaning as possible. Of course he was nothing more than one vibrantly charismatic young man, but since his death was so sudden and meaningless, and because until he died he'd made life as enjoyable as he possibly could, his existence had taken on a peculiar meaning.

I wondered whether that was the difference between having lost a father and lost a husband.

Although I was raised with love, I was always lonely. Someday, without fail, everyone will disappear, scattered into the blackness of time.

Que los muertos no volvían. Que una cosa era sólo una cosa

When I woke up, for a second, I could still vividly feel the sensation of my arms around my mother's neck, and my chest against hers. I was overcome by such a deep yearning that I cried as much as I'd ever cried in my life.

My dad never meant to die and leave us, and my mother didn't really want to hurt me, and if I'd had my way we'd all have lived together as a family for as long as we wanted.

Truly great people emit a light that warms the hearts of those around them. When that light has been put out, a heavy shadow of despair descends.

My feelings for you...are like the stillness of the sand...they make no sound...as they're washed away.

I was thinking of Anna. I make myself think of her, I do it as an exercise. She is lodged in me like a knife and yet I am beginning to forget her. Already the image of her that I hold in my head is fraying, bits of pigments, flakes of gold leaf, are chipping off. Will the entire canvas be empty one day?

On bad nights he would lose control altogether and break down, sobbing into his pillow. Yet he knew that if she returned to him both of them would suffer again.

But war was a world with no home, no roof, no comforts. A miserable journey, of endless drifting. War was a world without real men, without real women, without feeling.

Under the ground in the grave human beings aren't the same. You can look at each other, understand each other, but you can't do anything for each other." "If we found a way to tell them news of a victory, would they be happier?" Kien asked. "Come on! Even if we could, what would be the point? People in hell don't give a damn about wars. They don't remember killing. Killing is a career for the living, not the dead.

It was from that moment, when Phuong was violently taken from him, that the bloodshed truly began and his life entered into bloody suffering and failure. And he would understand true sacrifice: friends who would die to save others.

All the lovely things I've known have disappeared.

The world for which you have been so carefully prepared is being taken away from you," he said, "by the grace of God.

He knew he was being over-optimistic, for no necklace, however magnificent, however expensive, could compensate a woman for losing him.

It's amazing what you have to buy after a fire has completely wiped you out - things you never think about, like toothbrushes and boots and a dictionary. Of course, people gave us things, but mostly they didn't fit, and Mother said this was no time for us to go around looking like orphans of the storm.

Everywhere in the house there were sad little reminders—a limp string shopping-bag hanging from the kitchen door; a fortune-telling book in the dresser-drawer; a fern in the dining-room window that had died from neglect since she had ceased to tend it; and one small black glove mixed up with the string she used to save—little things like that were everywhere.

Mom, why couldn't my story, my real life story have a happy ending - like in the books?" "No true love story has a happy ending; one always must die and leave the other. So there's never a totally happy ending.

You can't miss what you never had.

I know what it looks like when someone's pushing the whole world away and how much you can lose while you're doing it.

When we don't have something in our lives, we tell ourselves that we don't need it, that we don't want it—because the alternative is aching for it, which breeds a sense of loss. So, we remove it from the picture we make of our lives. What we don't see, we don't miss.