Quotes About Loss

Christina. There was nothing else to say. Just her name and all the pain of its utterance.

And after he was gone, there would be memories to live on. But she would not think of that yet.

La verità è che i Classici sono in declino per definizione [...] La sensazione di una perdita imminente, il perenne timore che gli studi classici stiano per scomparire per sempre è ciò che [...] conferisce a queste discipline l'energia e la tensione di cui ritengo siano ancora intrise.

Even when an individual tried to fake it, the eyes still echoed loss, love, fear, or hate.

God will break your heart.

How long ago did she die, Wyatt? Morgan pressed. Is it nine years now? Eight, Wyatt said, halfway between stubborn and sad. I promised to love her all my life, Morg. I meant to keep my word. That shut Morgan up, but Doc's eyes opened and he gazed at Wyatt for a long time. What? Wyatt asked. That is your ghost life, Wyatt, Doc told him, and closed his eyes again. That is the life you might have had. This is the life you've got.

I had enjoyed something that did not belong to me, you see. When it was taken away, I was disappointed but not harmed.

Never more to find her where the bright waters flow...her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown

The world was so unfair when it came to dying. The best people, the ones you loved the most, died and other people, mean and nasty, lived and went right on being mean and nasty all their lives.

Maybe it would be better to hold her winglike shadow safe in the lock of his memory than to touch the breathing girl and lose her.

It's funny how, even long after you've accepted the grief of losing someone you love and truly have gotten on with your life, every once in a while something comes up that plays gotcha, and for a moment or tow the car tissue seperates and the wound is raw again.

Exposed to the world for what she was; numbed with worry and fear; trying to answer the question... The same question the police had thrown at her over and over seven years ago.....Where are the Children?

Dat heeft die klootzak verdiend... - Vittoria Massi, vader van Giuliana na het doodsteken van Rinaldo di Chimici

Het doet me aan mijn Giuliana denken... Ik ben haar voorgoed kwijt. - Enrico

What if she's dead?" I said. "She'll stay dead," he said. "She'll still be dead come morning.

Silence can make somebody bigger, I've come to believe. Grief can, too. A big sad silence emanating from someone can cause you to invest that person with all manner of gravitas.)

Yet through alcohol's alchemy, I'd swear some nights his shadowy form stands in the yard behind an old push-type lawn mower. Why'd you keep drinking? And Daddy, who was a shrugger, a starer into distances, shrugs and stares. You know…Then he dissolves into the falling snow. I upend the smooth bourbon, trying to achieve the same blunt, anesthetized state that once snuffed him out.

I bent down the page, whose small triangle still marks the instant. Touching that triangle of yellowed paper today is like sliding my hand into the glove of my seventeen-year-old hand. Through magic, there are the Iowa fields slipping by with all the wholesome prosperity they represent. And there is my mother, not yet born into the ziplock baggie of ash my sister sent me years ago with the frank message Mom ½, written in laundry pen, since no one in our family ever stood on ceremony.

I only breathe with one lung since you've gone , you say. And I love you with one hemisphere of my brain, the dumb one, the one that forgets.

clawing at my heart all these years.

the sweetness had gone so quickly from her

something had been lost that was perhaps an essential ingredient - a man can live without self-respect, but a group shatters, dispersed by the ugliness it sees reflected in itself.

And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, no doubt many of you do also. It is almost a failure of will, a failure of love, to let them grow old—or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give.

Where has this cold come from? "It comes from the death of your friend." Will I always, from now on, be this cold? "No, it will diminish. But always it will be with you." What is the reason for it? "Wasn't your friendship always as beautiful as a flame?