Quotes About Loss

too serious, Amy, you're too uptight, Amy, you overthink things, you analyze too much, you're no fun anymore, you make me feel useless, Amy, you make me feel bad, Amy. He took away chunks of me with blasé swipes: my independence, my pride, my esteem. I gave, and he took and took. He Giving Treed me out of existence. That whore, he picked that little whore over me. He killed my soul, which should be a crime. Actually, it is a crime.

Like the McMansion I rented, the bar featured symbolically in my childhood memories – a place where only grown-ups go, and do whatever grown-ups do. Maybe that's why I was so insistent on buying it after being stripped of my livelihood. It's a reminder that I am, after all, an adult, a grown man, a useful human being, even though I lost the career that made me all these things.

Why else would you pull out a dead little girl's teeth?" "He took her teeth?" "All but the back part of a baby molar.

Quando, alla fine, mia sorella era morta, mi ero sentita in parte sollevata. Avevo sempre avuto la sensazione che fosse stata introdotta a forza in questo mondo senza il dovuto equipaggiamento. Non era pronta a sopportarne il peso.

I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.

He took away chunks of me with blasé swipes: my independence, my pride, my esteem. I gave, and he took and took. He Giving Treed me out of existence. That whore, he picked that little whore over me. He killed my soul, which should be a crime. Actually, it is a crime. According to me, at least.

I felt no particular allegiance to the town. This was the place my sister died, the place I started cutting myself. A town so suffocating and small, you tripped over people you hated every day. People who knew things about you. It's the kind of place that leaves a mark.

By the time my sister finally died, I was grateful in a way. It seemed to me that she'd been expelled into this world not quite formed. She was not ready for its weight. People whispered comfort about Marian being called back to heaven, but my mother would not be distracted from her grief. To this day it remains a hobby.

Marian is dead. I couldn't stop. I've lost 12 pounds and am skin and bones. Everyone's been incredibly kind. People can be so wonderful.

I know that losing a job is incredibly stressful, and particularly for a man, they say it can be like a death in the family

Amy m'avait fait croire que j'étais exceptionnel, que je pouvais prétendre au même niveau de jeu qu'elle. C'était ce qui nous avait faits, c'était ce qui nous avait perdus.

He doesn't get to win.

De modo que puede que haya perdido la cabeza.

He killed my soul, which should be a crime.

I know, I know, I know that losing a job is incredibly stressful, and particularly for a man, they say it can be like a death in the family...

Whenever i see new stories about children who were killed by their own parents i think ... but how could it be? They cared enough to give this kid a name, They had a moment at least one moment when they sifted through all the possibilities and picked one specific name for their child , decided what will they call their baby . How could you kill something you cared enough to name?

Flash of Marian, now bones in a coffin, a white satin ribbon wrapped around dried blonde curls, like some bouquet gone stale.

I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.

know the wisdom, that no parents should see their child die, that such an event is like nature spun backward. But it's the only way to truly keep your child. Kids grow up, they forge more potent allegiances. They find a spouse or a lover. They will not be buried with you. The Keenes, however, will remain the purest form of family. Underground.

É impossível competir com os mortos. Eu gostaria de conseguir parar de tentar.

I pappagalli verdi li trascinano nel buio, per sempre.

As the ship pulled into the slip, the familiar screech of the steam whistle brought forth a flood of memories. A terrible sense of loss came over me, and I thought of Parlange with a stab of longing. I began to wish I had never left this country of magnolias and Spanish moss, of languid days and soft, warm nights. There's something to be said for staying where you were born and placed by God.

She came and she went, in sorrow for the death of dreams, and she came no more.

No soldier likes the thought of losing his best friend and favorite toy.