Quotes About Loss

The rope has been torn; a knot Can tie it again, but It's been torn. Perhaps we'll meet again, but You won't find me In the place where we parted ways.

It is many years ago and at times I know nothing about her anymore who was once all things to me but all things pass. (The Eleventh Psalm)

There are many things in this life capable of throwing people off course - the death of someone close, the loss of income or health, the realisation that cherished hopes cannot always be fulfilled

And still it was gone. Seeing it again could not be living it again. You can always rediscover an old path and wander over it, but the best yo an do then is say, 'Ah, yes, know this turning!' --or remind yourself that, while you remember that unforgettable valley, the valley no longer remembers you.

Hours fly...Flowers die.

And so a greater share of the night, Laura shed tears into her soft white pillow. Some of them were for old Oscar Lutz.... Some of them were for the general sad fact that hours fly and flowers die. But most of them were shed because of her own sudden and definite realization that even though there come new days and new ways,--love stays.

For can you think how it would be, to never, never hear a meadow lark sing again...?

Poor Christine! She had long ago spent the days of her young motherhood in the marketplace, and now that they were all squandered, she had so few pleasant things left to remember. So she crouched low over the dull embers of a few half-memories in order to warm her old heart.

I thought about that old saying, how we can never go home again. But I think it's more like a piece of us stays behind when we leave -- a piece we can never reclaim, one that awaits our next visit and demands that we remember.

Mamma hadde forlatt denne verden og erobret friheten, og derfor kunne jeg også erobre den. Jeg savnet henne og skulle ønske jeg kunne få høre latteren hennes igjen. Men jeg visste med meg selv at hun fantes et sted, ett eller annet strålende, grenseløst sted. Hun passet på meg, heiet på meg. Og elsket meg.

As the sunlight raced across the brilliant Savannah sky, the day unfolded like a beautiful yet painfully wrapped gift. Momma had left this world and set herself free, and in doing so, she had set me free too. As much as I missed her and wished I could hear her laughter one more time, I believed she was out there in the big bright somewhere, watching me, cheering for me. Loving me.

We're not supposed to outlive our children. It goes against nature's plan of things.

I'm fascinated with antiques," Miz Goodpepper said, bathing in a pool of soft light from the window. "I find there's a sweet sorrow in object that have slipped away from their original owners.

Nineteen words I counted them. That's all he had to say to me. Nineteen meaningless little words. And that's when my father died to me--right there in the driveway.

Momma had left this world and set herself free, and in doing so, she had set me free too. As much as I missed her and wished I could hear her laughter one more time, I believed she was out there in the big bright somewhere, watching me, cheering for me. Loving me.

like a deep bruise, the memory of Momma's final day jolts me whenever I bump up against it. I suspect it always will. So much about my mother's life and death would forever remain a mystery

A collection tells the story of the collector. A collection is a shoring up against the things that have gone missing. So much goes missing.

My dog Ginger passed away

All deaths seem terrible to the one who dies.

The line of his cheek bunched in a smile. My heart made a little lurch toward him. But if I let it move, it would spill its cargo into the sea of pain, so I held it still again, tight and cold.

It was like that. Sometimes I'd go for a period—days or weeks—without feeling the full sweep of my loss, and then as unexpected as a thunderclap, the realization would rip the protective coating from my senses. Maybe that's the way it is with trick knees and aging griefs. Totally pain free one moment and absorbingly painful the next.

Six years is plenty long enough to soothe the tearing anguish of...death, but maybe no amount of time is enough to soothe something that is no longer there. Something like an emptiness that can never be filled because it's only a bit of space carved out of air.

I know that's what people say-- you'll get over it. I'd say it, too. But I know it's not true. Oh, youll be happy again, never fear. But you won't forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him.

In real life, one of my friends was killed in a car accident during our sophomore year.