Quotes About Loss

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows that the war is over Everybody knows that the good guys lost —LEONARD COHEN, "Everybody Knows," 1988

A rhyme invented by Russian conscripts went: Afghanistan A wonderland Just drop into a store And you'll be seen no more13

As our federal government has grown too large and too powerful, the real loss has been the freedom of people to govern their own lives and participate fully in the American dream.

The Chinese government is quickly losing its ideological legitimacy, maintain its rule with force, but cannot draw strength from the ideology of Marx and Mao.

two things had to happen to him: first, he had to find out what was important to him, and what it was like to lose it. And second, he had to come to the realization that he needed to restructure his priorities: God first, then family.

Of course, it's a little late for a heart to heart when one of the hearts is half a cup of ash.

I'm the only person I know that's lost a quarter of a billion dollars in one year.... It's very character-building.

A broken heart bleeds tears.

Midlife crisis, it turns out, is much less about a loss of flesh and far more about a loss of innocence, the stripping-away of the illusion of choice and order.

You've lost an arm, Alessio! By the mercy of the Emperor, you're lucky not losing your life as well! I haven't lost my arm, brother! It's right over there! I'm still in this! I'm fine!

Childhood disappears down a storm drain. It flows, then trickles, then vanishes, leaving some olfactory memory—of new tennis balls, Sunday-morning bacon, a chemical cloud of Glade—to prove it ever existed. It seldom ends on a sixteenth birthday or an eighteenth birthday or some other calendar date, and rarer still is it stamped with a time of death. But sometimes it is.

gathered around him, Jack Cash passed away. The next day the body lay in an open

Shaylene knew of three children in Norwalk besides Lolek who came down with the fever during the past few years. One of those children, a four-year-old girl, tragically died because of it.

In our memories, there is a graveyard where we bury our dead. They all lie there together, the loved ones and the ones we hated, friends and foes and kin, with no distinction among them. We have to mourn every one of them, because our memories have made them as much a part of us as our bones or our skin. If we don't, we've no right to remember anything at all.

You must understand the pain and grief of losing someone is nothing more than a function of survival.

The only reason death is a bad thing is because it is bad for the living.

When we die we mourn the loss of such a magnificent sensation that is orgasm.

In war everyone loses. This brutal truth can be seen in the eyes of every solider in every world.

Too many regrets. Lost chances—and with each one passing the less human we all became, and the deeper into the nightmare of power we all sank.

While the innocent yearned to lose their innocence, those who had already done so in turn envied the innocent, and knew grief in what they had lost. Between the two, no exchange of truths was possible.

Against a broken heart, even absurdity falters. Because words fall away. A dialogue of silence. That deafens.

Why do the survivors remain anonymous—as if cursed—while the dead are revered? Why do we cling to what we lose while we ignore what we still hold?

Not even the dead know the end to war. -Iskar Jarak

Braven Tooth, you remember the last time I played-' 'That was the last time?' 'It was, and there's been a lot who've fallen since then. Friends. People we grew to love, and now miss, like holes in the heart.' He drew a deep breath, then continued, 'It's been waiting, inside, for a long time. So, my old, old friends, let's hear some names.