Quotes About Loss

That was the end of his driving.. That was the end of his walking free.. That was the end of his privacy.. And that was the end of his secret.

I wasn't there when you died. That's not your fault. I never said good-bye. Such a needless word, she said, when you love somebody.

losing a loved one is never really starting over. More like continuing without.

It's a quiet theft, how time lures people away.

but her absence was like a character in it.

After the funeral, my life changed. I felt as if time were suddenly precious, water going down an open drain, and I could not move quickly enough. No more playing music at half-empty night clubs. No more writing songs in my apartment, songs that no one would hear.

Sometimes, when you're losing someone, you hang on to whatever tradition you can.

Lágrima"—"Teardrop"—the

And I suppose tapes, like photographs and videos, are a desperate attempt to steal something from death's suitcase.

Do you understand now? he asked. With endless time, nothing is special. With no loss or sacrifice, we can't appreciate what we have.

How nice would that be today if when a job was lost, a Man of God sat at the dinner table and encouraged you?

When people leave this Earth, their loved ones always weep." She smiled. "But I promise you, those who leave do not.

Beginnings and endings are earthly ideas. I go on. And because I go on, you go on with me. Feeling loss is part of why you are on Earth. Through it, you appreciate the brief gift of human existence, and you learn to cherish the world I created for you. But the human form is not permanent. It was never meant to be. That gift belongs to the soul.

Beginnings and endings are earthly ideas. I go on. And because I go on, you go on with me. Feeling loss is part of why you are on Earth. Through it, you appreciate the brief gift of human existence, and you learn to cherish the world I created for you.

Fear is how you lose your life . . . a little bit at a time. . . . What we give to fear, we take away from . . . faith." The

la pérdida le había enseñado algo muy importante: afferrarse a lo material <>

Her dresses. Her shoes. A bottle of her perfume. You don't need much to remember someone, Francisco. Even one thing will do.

la pérdida le había enseñado algo muy importante: aferrarse a lo material 'solo sirve para ser un desgraciado'.

With endless time, nothing is special. With no loss or sacrifice, we can't appreciate what we have.

My mother had been all over me as a kid—advice, criticism, the whole smothering mothering thing. There were times I wished she would leave me alone. But then she did. She died. No more visits, no more phone calls.

The next morning, shortly after sunrise, the Reb was awakened for a sponge bath. It was quiet and early. The nurse bathed him gently, and he was singing and humming to her, alive with the day. Then his head slumped and his music stopped forever.

When someone passes, people always ask, why did God take them? A better question would be why did God give them to us? What did we do to deserve their love, their joy, the sweet moments we shared? Those moments are a gift.

PEOPLE SAY THEY "find" love, as if it were an object hidden by a rock. But love takes many forms, and it is never the same for any man and woman. What people find then is a certain love. And Eddie found a certain love with Marguerite, a grateful love, a deep but quiet love, one that he knew, above all else, was irreplaceable. Once she'd gone, he'd let the days go stale. He put his heart to sleep.

But today is not yesterday, and the Reb could do nothing but listen to the worst imaginable words—We couldn't save her—told to him by a doctor he had never met before that night. How could this happen? She had been perfectly normal earlier in the day, a playful child, her whole life before her. We couldn't save her? Where is the logic, the order of life?