Quotes About Loss

The sooner you get another job, babe, the better.' 'It's all of twenty-four hours since I lost the last one. Am I allowed to just be a bit miserable and floppy? You know, just for today?' 'But you've got to look at the positive side. You knew you couldn't stay at that place forever. You want to move upwards, onwards.

There is nothing redemptive about the loss of a child, no lessons of value it can teach you. It is too big, too overwhelming, too black to articulate. It is a bleak, overwhelming physical pain, shocking in its intensity, and every time you think you might have moved forward an inch it swells back, like a tidal wave, to drown you again.

I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual. I wanted to press every bit of me against him. I wanted to will something into him. I wanted to give him every bit of life I felt and force him to live. I realized I was afraid of living without him.

That some things are a gift, even if you don't get to keep them.

Maybe that's the thing we need to understand, Alice. That some things are a gift, even if you don't get to keep them.

Across Manhattan the sun glowed orange, the endless sea of glittering skyscrapers reflecting back a peach light, the center of the world, going about its business. A million lives below me, a million heartbreaks big and small, tales of joy and loss and survival, a million little victories every day.

It was only when I followed Dad into our house and saw the empty chair that I was able to convince myself it was true. I would never see him again, never feel that curved old back under my fingertips as I hugged him, never again make him a cup of tea or interpret his silent words or joke with him about cheating at Sudoku.

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not.

She stopped and turned to me, as if she had suddenly thought of something. "You know, you don't have to be sad just to stay connected to him." - page 273 "Hey Lou!" she yelled. "I meant to say to you. Moving on doesn't mean you loved my dad any less, you know. I'm pretty sure even he would tell you that." - page 300

sobs that contained the death of dreams and the dread knowledge of months of heartbreak ahead.

Sometimes I felt as if we were all wading around in grief, reluctant to admit to others how far we were waving or drowning.

I thought about how you're shaped so much by the people who surround you, and how careful you have to be in choosing them for this exact reason, and then I thought, despite all that, in the end maybe you have to lose them all in order to truly find yourself.

It's not the same crushing grief you felt at first, the kind that swamps you and makes you want to cry in the wrong places and get irrationally angry with all the idiots who are still alive when the person you love is dead. It's just something you learn to accommodate. Like adapting around a hole. I don't know. It's like you become . . . a doughnut instead of a bun.

That some things are a gift, even if you don't get to keep them. Maybe just to know that something this beautiful exists is all we can really ask for.

Aprendemos a conviver com a perda, com as pessoas que nos deixam. Porque elas permanecem conosco, mesmo não estando vivas, mesmo não respirando mais.

A million lives below me, a million heartbreaks big and small, tales of joy and loss and survival, a million little victories every day.

You just destroy the things you love. By weighing it down. Right? page 77

I feel like I've turned myself off for the past two years. Like I wouldn't let anyone get close to me because of what happened. I mean, what's the point of getting close to someone if you're only going to lose them? But the other day I started thinking about what I actually want out of life and I realized it was someone to love. Because you got to move on, right? You got to see some kind of future.

Someone who had lost a child, according to village wisdom, should be allowed to grieve in whichever way she chose; the awfulness was so unimaginable that unlike other life events—weddings, christenings, disappearing spouses—no one felt qualified to suggest a right or wrong way of dealing with

Questa faccenda sta causando tanto dolore a troppe persone.

He had told her a few weeks ago that being this age was like walking among snipers, that people he cared about were being picked off and there was nothing you could do and no way of telling who was next.

I heard the priest murmur the familiar recitation about dust and ashes and my eyes filled with tears. I wiped them away with a handkerchief.

The door opened slowly, and there he stood, still in the same cornflower blue shirt I remembered from two summers previously, but a newer, shorter haircut, perhaps a vain attempt to combat the ageing effects of extreme grief.

There was no one left to anchor her to the earth, no one who cared about her. There was nothing to go on to, nothing to return to.