Quotes About Loss

Then is Now. The star you steer by is gone,its tremulous thread spun in the hurricanespider floss on my cheek; light from the zenithspun when the slowworm lay in her lapfifty years ago.

The old Paris is no more (the form of a city changes faster, alas! than a mortal's heart).

You can only go into mourning by transfiguration or disfigurement. There is no rational form of the absorption of death.

I miss him still today: his long, whiskery eyebrows, his huge hands and hugs, his warmth, his prayers, his stories, but above all his shining example of how to live and how to die.

Man buys ring woman throws it away Same old thing happens everyday

Your day breaks, your mind aches You find that all the words of kindness linger on When she no longer needs you

Losing a fantasy is much harder than losing a reality.

The realization that I'm never going to run again, the feeling through my hair when you run... you're still a kid. You still have so much life to live.

It's just a fact of life that you don't realize what you've got until it's gone.

It's haunting to realize that half of the languages of the world are teetering on the brink of extinction.

I found my way back into music and realized that it's not that the music went away after losing my hearing, I just get the privilege of enjoying it and experiencing it differently.

When my father died in my arms it had such a profound affect on me that at that very moment when my dad passed I realized that I needed to face my own fears.

I realized that my mother was at the center of my work, because now that my mother is no longer there, there's nobody left.

That was a real learning element for me, because I realized that the more true you are to yourself, the more you will lose people.

I guess I just process death differently than some folks. Realizing you're not going to see that person again is always the most difficult part about it. But that feeling settles, and then you are glad you had that person in your life, and then the happiness and the sadness get all swirled up inside you.

Americans in the Civil War period were very interested in Heaven and what it might be like, because they were having to face the fact that many of their loved ones were gone and many of their loved ones, they hoped, were in this other realm called Heaven.

I started rapping because my mom died when I was about 11 years old, and I was a very rebellious kid. I've been kicked out of every school I've ever been in since 6th grade on, expelled and dropped out in the 11th grade. Music was the only thing that I could really use to express myself, so I started rapping.

In the last few years, losing my father, going through a divorce and not getting some jobs I really wanted, is making me a much more interesting person, I think. This all really does feel like a rebirth, a new chapter.

We learn, grow and become compassionate and generous as much through exile as homecoming, as much through loss as gain, as much through giving things away as in receiving what we believe to be our due.

The recent past always presents itself as if destroyed by catastrophes.

With Alzheimer's, recent memory is affected first. At the start, you count the memory loss in days, then hours - then in minutes. But there's also an insidious backward creep of deterioration.

I think my dad would make an incredible president, and it would be great if he'd run again. But personally, for our family, part of me is glad that he didn't. We lost our mother recently, and we need to focus on ourselves.

A lot of those songs are actually about Sarah, who I was recently divorced from about five or six months ago. I'd been seeing her off and on since I was about nineteen, so a lot of those songs are about her.

Someone told me just recently that poets are eulogists. It's their job, to eulogize. I didn't know that, but it makes sense. Because in almost every poem of mine there is a loss.