Quotes About Loss

sometimes what matters isn't what one gives but what one gives up. Bernarda

En mi mundo, la muerte era una mano anónima e incomprensible, un vendedor a domicilio que se llevaba madres, mendigos o vecinos nonagenarios como si se tratase de una lotería del infierno.

there were no more ghosts there than those of absence and loss

outside the library seemed to be losing its memory, day after day, unknowingly, feeling all the wiser the more it forgot.

En la guerra hizo fortuna y en el amor lo perdió todo. Estaba escrito que no había nacido para ser feliz y que nunca podría llegar a saborear el fruto que aquella primavera tardía había llevado a su corazón.

I was still trapped in that dark, gloomy dining room where I now imagined Nuria Monfort sitting alone, silently tidying up her pencils, her folders, and her memories, her eyes poisoned with tears

Nobody knew, I thought. Nobody. But I nodded, and, after kissing her on the cheek, I wandered off, walking through the streets that seemed emptier than ever, thinking 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.

Senti-me rodeado por milhares de páginas abandonadas, de universos e almas sem dono, que se fundiam em um oceano de escuridão enquanto o mundo que palpitava do lado de fora daquelas paredes perdia a memória sem perceber, dia após dia, sentindo-se mais sábio quanto mais esquecia.

Nulla alimenta l'oblio più di una guerra, Daniel.

La muerte tiene estas cosas: a todo el mundo lo despierta la sensiblería. Frente a un ataúd, todos vemos sólo lo bueno o lo que queremos ver.

And if one day, kneeling at her graveside, you feel the fire of anger trying to take hold of you, remember that in my story, as in yours, there was an angel who holds all the answers.

Odchodzisz w cieniu, pomy?la?em. Tak, jak ?y?a?.

Mrs. Latham patted Hayley's knee with a frail, liver-spotted hand. ''I'm sure you do, dear. And I'm afraid those kinds of losses don't get any easier as we grow older. Mrs. Latham turned, including Colton in her smile as she changed the subject. ''I'm so thrilled to finally be able to restore Victorian Oaks. It's been my dream for some time. I understand you grew up there, Colt said. Yes, indeed. I was a Palmer before I married Mr. Latham. It pains me to see the old house going to ruin.

Listen to the sea...it sounds like a coffin being dragged over broken glass.

It wasn't that she stopped being nice; she stopped being anything

I doubt women will be surprised that men write more often about the loss of face and the loss of power, while women tend to write about the loss of self.

As Nubia played the flute, it was if her finger tips caressed each one of those she loved, those whom she would never see again

When Venalicius had carried her far across the Land of Blue to the Land of Red, the only familiar thing had been the stars in the sky. At Flavia's house she had slept in the inner garden with Scuto, comforted by his furry warmth and by the familiar constellations overhead. But tonight she could see no stars. Tonight there was nothing to remind her of home and who she had been.

The wounded child sees the Divine as operating a reward and punishment system, with humanly logical explanations for all painful experiences. The wounded child does not understand that within all experiences, no matter how painful, lie spiritual insights. So long as we think like a wounded child, we will love conditionally and with great fear of loss.

Grief was the same, no matter what caused it.

Was this all there was to life? Joys and sorrows reduced to a box full of gray ashes.

Family," he muttered as he turned away from the mirror. "I've learned that they can be taken away in the blink of an eye.

like Gert is here, but . . ." She couldn't find the words to finish.

received through the years. But Harriet had passed on the