Quotes About Loss

Afterwards, once you lost all hope, time began to go faster and the senseless days deadened your soul.

I wandered off, walking through streets that seemed emptier than ever, thinking that if I didn't stop, if I kept on walking, I wouldn't notice that the world I thought I knew was no longer there.

Baje a la orilla y me senté en la arena, donde años atrás había esparcido las cenizas de Marina. La misma luz de aquel día encendió el cielo y sentí su presencia, intensa. Comprendí que ya no podía ni quería huir más. Había vuelto a casa.

Le hablé de cómo hasta aquel momento no había comprendido que aquélla era una historia de gente sola, de ausencias y de pérdida, y que por esa razón me había refugiado en ella hasta confundirla con mi propia vida, como quien escapa a través de las páginas de una novela porque aquellos a quien necesita amar son sólo sombras que viven en el alma de un extraño.

listening to the storm outside as it left the city, knowing that I was going to lose her but also knowing that, for a few minutes, we had belonged to one another, and to nobody else.

The dead never go to their own funeral.

The only thing I can recall is that it rained all day and all night, and that when I asked my father whether heaven was crying, he couldn't bring himself to reply. Six years later my mother's absence remained in the air around us, a deafening silence that I had not yet learned to stifle with words.

You cannot understand such things right now, because you're young. But in good time you'll see that sometimes what matters isn't what one gives but what one gives up.

Six years later my mother's absence remained in the air around us, a deafening silence that I had not learned to stifle with words.

I felt myself surrounded by millions of abandoned pages, by words and souls without an owner sinking in an ocean of darkness, while the world that throbbed outside the Library seemed to be losing it´s memory, day after day, unknowingly, feeling all the wiser the more it forgot.

I caressed Cristina in the dark, listening to the storm outside as it left the city, knowing that I was going to lose her but also knowing that, for a few minutes, we had belonged to each other and to nobody else.

I could tell you it's his heart, but what is really killing him is loneliness. Memories are worse than bullets.

That afternoon of mist and drizzle, Clara Barcelo stole my heart, my breath, and my sleep. In the haunted shade of the Ateneo, her hands wrote a curse on my skin that was to hound me for years.

It's funny how we judge others and don't realize the extent of our disdain until they are no longer there, until they are taken from us. They're taken from us because they've never been ours...

Death does that:It makes everyone feel sentimental when in front of a coffin, we all see only what is good or what we want to see.

I imagined Julián Caraxat my age, holding that image in his hands, perhaps in the shade of the same tree that now sheltered me. I could almost see him smiling confidently, contemplating a future as wide and luminous as that avenue, and for a moment I thought there were no more ghosts there than that of absence and loss that the light that smiled on me was borrowed light, real only as long as I could hold it in my eyes, second by second.

La juventud es una novia caprichosa. No sabemos entenderla ni valorarla hasta que se va con otro para no volver jamás…

When he spoke those words, it seemed to Julian that the hatter had put off falling in love with his wife until he had already lost her. 'You only love truly once in a lifetime, Julian, even if you aren't always aware of it.

I wandered off, walking through streets that seemed emptier than ever, thinking that if i didn't stop, if I kept on walking, i wouldn't notice that the world I knew was no longer there.

Nos miramos en la penumbra, buscando palabras que no existían. Aquélla fue la primera vez en que me di cuenta de que mi padre envejecía y de que sus ojos, ojos de niebla y de pérdida, siempre miraban atrás. Se incorporó y descorrió las cortinas para dejar entrar la tibia luz del alba.

La vida, hijo mío, es como la primera partida de ajedrez. Cuando empiezas a entender cómo se mueven las piezas, ya has perdido.

is the sort that breaks a man's heart just walking...

Le podría decir a usted que es el corazón, pero lo que lo mata es la soledad. Los recuerdos son peores que las balas.

e por um instante pensei que não havia ali mais fantasmas que os da ausência e da perda,e que aquela luz que me sorria era de empréstimo e só valia enquanto a pudesse segurar com o olhar,segundo a segundo.