Quotes About Loss

What is so great about the times?" A.J. has often reflected that, bit by bit, all the best things in the world are being carved away like fat from meat. First, it had been the record stores, and then the video stores, and then newspapers and magazines, and now even the big chain bookstores were disappearing everywhere you looked. From his point of view, the only thing worse than a world with big chain bookstores was a world with NO big chain bookstores.

Sam is holding one of your hands, and Sadie is holding the other. And your parents are there, but they are standing behind your friends. And this makes sense, because Sadie and Sam have been your family, as much as your family has been your family. Behind them, a thousand paper cranes festoon the room. "It's okay, Marx," Sadie says. "You can let go.

Harvey ha muerto, y por un instante Amelia considera la posibilidad de hacer un mal chiste presentando la otra vida como una especie de empresa a la que Harvey se ha incorporado.

The loss of his mind has turned out to be a curiously pain-free process. He feels that it ought to hurt more.

far, although husbands who have terrible accidents are usually received warmly (extra points if he dies, and she finds love again). Maeve Binchy is popular for a while, until Margene, who in another life had been an investment

Someone stole Tamerlane," A.J. says. "What's Tamerlane?" "It's a book. It's a very valuable book.

A.J. runs their credit cards and concludes that a theft is an acceptable social loss while a death is an isolating one.

She asks A.J. about his lifestyle. He answers the question truthfully. "I'm not what you'd call an alcoholic, but I do like to drink until I pass out at least once a week. I smoke occasionally and I subsist on a diet of frozen entrees. I rarely floss. I used to be a long-distance runner, but now I don't exercise at all. I live alone and I lack meaningful personal relationships. Since my wife died, I hate my work, too.

The universe, he felt, was just—or if not just, fair enough. It might take your mother, but it might give you someone else in return.

I was crying a little for the boy I had wanted him to be and the boy he hadn't turned out to be.

What is a game?" Marx said. "It's tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. It's the possibility of infinite rebirth, infinite redemption. The idea that if you keep playing, you could win. No loss is permanent, because nothing is permanent, ever.

Your music is the music of death.

I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures.

I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures. ...We tell the story to get them back, to capture the traces of footfalls through the snow.

What they never tell you about grief is that missing someone is the simple part.

Hope in the beginning feels like such a violation of the loss, and yet without it we couldn't survive.

It's and old, old story: I had a friend and we shared everything, and then she died and so we shared that, too.

Grief is what tells you who you are alone.

Like a starfish, the heart endures its amputation.

The only education in grief that any of us ever gets is a crash course. Until Caroline had died I had belonged to that other world, the place of innocence, and linear expectations, where I thught grief was a simple, wrenching realm of sadness and longing that graduallu receded. What that definition left out was the body blow that loss inflicts, as well as the temporary madness, and a range of less straightforward emotions shocking in their intensity.

The only education in grief that any of us ever gets is a crash course.

That she was irreplaceable became a bittersweet loyalty: Her death was what I had now instead of her.

Death is a divorce nobody asked for; to live through it is to find a way to disengage from what you thought you couldn't stand to lose.

The other thing I know now, is that we survive grief merely and surely by outlasting it. The ongoing fact of the narrative eclipses the heartbreak within. A deal that seems to be the price we pay for getting to hold on to our beloved dead.