Quotes About Loss

Mac reflected on the Unseelie King and his concubine: He'd loved her for all time After he'd believed she was gone Sunshine to his ice. Frost to her fever. I wished them forever. You, too, beautiful girl. The Unseelie King was gone.

For fuck's sake, you vanished and I couldn't find you. Do you really think I'm going to let that happen again? If you believe nothing else, concede it will work for that reason alone. I don't lose things that are mine.

She was a fool. She wept like a helpless child that night at Chester's while the entire club watched. Not because you broke her finger or threatened her but because you were alive and she was that happy to see you. She was always happy to see you. She lit up inside. You lost her. You let her be lost.

When you love too hard, you can lose the will to live without them. Everywhere you look is a great big sucking absence of what you once had and will never have again. And life gets weirdly flat and too sharp and painful at the same time, and nothing feels right and everything cuts.

They loved so intensely that moments of their life have been etched into the very fabric of the mansion. Some say the king designed it that way, so if one day he lost her he could come live with her residue.

Her absence in my life was so painful that it was a presence.

I was a twenty-two-year-old single white female alone in a strange country where my sister had been killed.

Does she, like most women, lose a part of her soul in sex? Leave it lying there for the taking? Fuck.

Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things.

Love is funny. Even though you don't have that person anymore, you still have the feeling. You didn't lose your LOVE. You lost the tangible, tactile, sense-sational ability to experience the person or animal you lost.

Do you think love just goes away? Pops out of existence when it becomes too painful or inconvenient, as if you never felt it?

You don't get to make my decisions for me. It's my life and only I know what I need and what I'm willing to go through. I don't want to live without you. I felt that once. I never want to feel it again." I'd been lost, purposeless, denied Heaven. It was as if his frequency and my frequency made such an exquisite song together that without it I wasn't alive.

Grief was a silenced wail that had no beginning or end, just a long, agonizing middle.

But then we so rarely understand the value of what we possess until it's gone.

love doesn't die just because the person does

I know why I'm obsessed with her. She's the innocence I've lost. As I was going dark, she was getting nothing but brighter.

You don't grieve love; you celebrate that you had it.

When did grief end? Did it ever? Or did you just get numb from hurting yourself on it so many times?

R-E-G-R-E-T. I can spell that word now. Raw. Endless. Grief. Raining. Eternal. Tears. That's what regret is.

I stood staring at myself in the mirror trying to reconcile dual images. I was hunting the monster that had killed my sister. I was the monster that had killed his brother.

The worst part about losing someone you love—besides the agony of never getting to see them again—are the things you never said. The unsaid stalks you, mocks you for thinking you had all the time in the world. None of us do.

All I can think is: His head is gone and I don't know how to merge with the Book.

He, who had once been whole, was halved, without hope of ever being complete again. And when you've known that kind of love, to endure the creeping passage of time without it is to live a half-life where nothing ever feels real.

That's the way it goes when the world falls apart. You never appreciate what you've got till it's gone.