Quotes About Loss

She was poisoned, but the reason she was crying was that her husband didn't want her anymore.

I wake up afraid that she will be taken and folded up in a closet like clean linen.

I'm afraid something will happen to my hands," he says, "I need my hands.

We drove past our old house," the woman told me, "and I noticed that the tree he had watered through the droughts and cared for over the years had been cut down. He must have noticed too. I didn't say anything. I thought, 'I won't talk about it until he does,' but he didn't say a word.

Today I noticed a slim bar of soap lodged deep in the throat of the sink. My fingers can't reach that far down the drain. It is leaching away into the water, every day.

There is something in the pang of change More than the heart can bear, Unhappiness remembering happiness.

A sweet thing, for whatever time,to revisit in dreams the dear dead we have lost.

Oh, if I had Orpheus' voice and poetrywith which to move the Dark Maid and her Lord,I'd call you back, dear love, from the world below.I'd go down there for you. Charon or the grimKing's dog could not prevent me thenfrom carrying you up into the fields of light.

A sweet thing, for whatever time,to revisit in dreams the dear dad we have lost.

Dear Diary, until now I didn't want to write about this in you because I tried to put it out of my mind, but ever since the Germans are here, all I think about is Marta. She was also just a girl, and still, the Germans killed her. But I don't want them to kill me!"

Oh diary, what have I done to deserve dying so young?

As Maia turned to go, hardly believing that there could be such happiness, she heard a loud splash. Miss Minton was leaning over the side, watching the parcel she had held on her knees floating away downriver. "What was that?" asked Maia. Miss Minton straightened herself. If you must know," she said, "it was my corset.

It was only when the light in her eyes was extinguished, at the mention of her father, that Rupert realized how brightly it had burned.

And lying there, her hair in damp strands across her crumpled face, Harriet gave up the long, long struggle to love her father and her aunt. "It was for this loss above all that she wept. She had learned, during the long years of her childhood, to live without receiving love. To live without giving it seemed more than she could bear.

Then a month after Bernard's sixteenth birthday, Sir Aubrey came down to breakfast, and so did Dudley and so did Joan. They helped themselves to kedgeree and scrambled eggs and kidneys and bacon. Then Sir Aubrey rang for the footman to bring fresh coffee and said, "Where's Bernard? The wretched boy is late again." But Bernard wasn't late--he was gone, and nobody from Westwood ever set eyes on him again.

When the sun was rising I doubted its value, as it set I lamented its loss.

Character is what you have when you've lost everything you can loose.

The years were falling over like ducks in a shooting gallery, and it seemed to Mr. Bridge that he had scarcely taken aim at one when it disappeared.

Two days later, Sandra achingly wrote to her son Jay from Washington:

When 'Ishaqzaade' released, I was going through hell. It didn't matter what I said or did, because I had lost my mother.

It is very difficult to hang onto the relics of history.

When my father died, my mother was still alive. And I think when your second parent dies, there is that shock: 'Oh man, I'm an orphan.' There's also this relief: It's done; it's finished; it's over.

This overpowering relief of love conquering any kind of difficulty and hardship in life - that love is forever, even with people that we lost in the physical world.

Religion provides the only story that is fundamentally consoling in the face of the worst possible experiences - the death of a parent, for instance. In fact, many religions take away the problem entirely, because their adherents ostensibly believe that they're going to be reunited with everyone they love, and death is an illusion.