Quotes About Loss

A dead parent is a tricky kind of ghost. If you can make it into more like a doll, putting it in the real house and clothes and such that they had, it helps you to picture them as a person instead of just a person-shaped hole in the air.

driving me to see my mom get put in the ground. It hit me pretty hard, how there's no kind of sad in this world that will stop it turning. People will keep on wanting what they want, and you're on your own.

I suppose it is in our nature," she said finally. "When men fear the loss of what they know, they will follow any tyrant who promises to restore the old order." "If that is our nature, then nature is madness. These are more dangerous times than we ever have known." *

At the start of the service they did that song about Amazing God, and I felt exactly the opposite: I once could see but now I'm blind, was found but now I'm

And then while we all still waited I understood that the terror of my recurring dream was not about losing just vision, but the whole of myself, whatever that was. What you lose in blindness is the space around you, the place where you are, and without that you might not exist. You could be nowhere at all.

a husband quits a wife, leaving her with her naked body curled around the emptied-out mine of her womb. I know people.

He behaves as if he had no dead children. The real Leandro never comes here. He only pretends.

When men fear the loss of what they know, they will follow any tyrant who promises to restore the old order." "If that is our nature, then nature is madness. These are more dangerous times than we ever have known." *

one thought in it as regards childhood. For any kid that gets that as an option: take that sweet thing and run with it. Hide. Love it so hard. Because it's going to fucking leave you and not come back.

today and I thought of those movies in which a town is wiped clean of its

AS LONG AS I KEPT MOVING, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer's long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn't touch me. Only when I stopped did the slick, dark stuff of it come floating around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown.

A dead parent is a tricky kind of ghost. If you can make it into more like a doll, putting it in the real house and clothes and such that they had, it helps you to picture them as a person instead of just a person-shaped hole in the air. Which helps you feel less like a person-shaped invisible kid.

Everything that could be taken is gone. Mountains left with their heads blown off, rivers running black. My people are dead of trying, or headed that way, addicted as we are to keeping ourselves alive. There's no more blood here to give, just war wounds. Madness. A world of pain, looking to be killed.

I was afraid of crying if I couldn't touch her.

The tree was intact, not cut or broken by wind. What a waste. After maybe centuries of survival it had simply let go of the ground, the wide fist of its root mass ripped up and resting naked above a clay gash in the wooded mountainside. Like herself, it just seemed to have come loose from its station in life.

it had been her mother who put Willa back together. When someone mattered like that, you didn't lose her at death. You lost her as you kept living.

Because what would be left, when all these books were in the past? He lay awake nights dreading it.

carry a heart past unbearable losses...and strike its path through one more day: Get up and make intentions. I intend to call a friend on the phone. I intend to notice the flowers in the yard.

She stops trying to talk for a while, since there is nothing to say about a lost child that can change one star in a father's lonely sky.

Remy, my third husband, was very devoted. He was an older man. My life has been 101 Calamities with at least half of them in the marriage department, but finally I got lucky in love, with Remy Fairley. He at least had the decency to die and leave me the Equatorial... the nicest hotel for business men

All hope and future lost in a day.

She breathed in slowly; this was what she had, the beauty of this awful night. She listened for small yips in the distance, something to put in her heart besides the lost phoebes and the dread of another full moon rising with no more small celebrations from her body ever again. She kept herself still and tried to think of coyote children emerging from the forest's womb with their eyes wide open while the finite possibilities of her own children closed their eyes, finally, on this world.

It divided me from the people I knew, then and later, but in broader human terms I don't pretend that it sets me apart in any great way. A miscarriage is a natural and common event. All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven't. Most don't mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn't happened, and so people imagine that a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had

When men fear the loss of what they know, they will follow any tyrant who promises to restore the old order." "If that is our nature, then nature is madness. These are more dangerous times than we ever have