Quotes About Loss

Little black and tan older dog? Verdie asked. Do you know who he belongs to? Belonged to, not belongs. Old man Rawling died about two weeks ago. His family intended to have Pete and Joe put to sleep the day after the funeral, but they both vanished.... Dickie bought that crazy bird for his wife, Mary, about six years ago. He'd promised her that someday he'd take her to a tropical island and then she got cancer and he couldn't take her so he bought her the bird.

We are never ready." Noah laced her fingers in his and gently pulled her toward the house. "We all knew my grandfather wouldn't last long, and yet when he was gone, we weren't ready to lose him. My dad went suddenly, so we sure weren't ready. I remember thinking at the time that it didn't matter if we had weeks to prepare for a loved one's death or no time at all. We could never be ready no matter how hard we try or even think we are.

a complete stranger, and yet grief is no respecter of persons.

Everything was going according to plan. What caught me off guard, however, was the fact that this eagerly awaited phase brought a sense of loss to me that triggered a whole new wave of soul searching I had not anticipated.

My casual talk with my adult children brings with it another fleeting sadness: They are the age I was when it became, because of profound political differences, difficult for me to chat easily with my parents: vituperation always lurked. They and I later reconciled but those years of loss now add a special poignancy.

To the lost, transfixed among the self-inflicted ruins, All that is non-air (if this indeed is not deception) Is agony immobilized. While Time, The endless idiot, runs screaming round the world.

By the moonlight he watched his wife for the last time. His hand sought the adjacent flesh and sorrow paralleled desire in the immense complexity of love.

But listen! Wherever you look there's meanness and corruption. This room, this bottle of grape wine, these fruits in the basket, are all products of profit and loss. A fellow can't live without giving his passive acceptance to meanness. Somebody wears his tail to a frazzle for every mouthful we eat and every stitch we wear—and nobody seems to know. Everybody is blind, dumb, and blunt-headed—stupid and mean.' Jake

He could not understand the wild quiver of his heart, nor the following sense of recklessness and grace that lingered after she was gone.

Now that it was over there was only her heart like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.

The point is that we all caught. And we try in one way or another to widen ourself free. For instance, me and Ludie. When I was with Ludie, I didn't feel so caught. But then Ludie died. We go around trying one thing or another, but we caught anyhow.

How can the dead be truly dead when they are still walking in my heart?

It was as though his son cheated him by depriving him of his beloved presence, the sweet and treacherous thief had plundered his heart. If Johnny had died in any other way, cancer or leukaemia… he could have grieved with a clear heart, cried also. But suicide seemed a deliberate act of spite which the Judge resented.

Es mucho mejor que nos quiten los beneficios de nuestro bolsillo a que nos roben las riquezas de nuestra mente y nuestra alma

Twigs and beetles and dead body. Water and blood. You'll never get back.

Family members lost to slave sales were worse than dead, as there was no peace or closure.

When her voice is forever stilled, her soul, like the soul of him whom she calls her dearest friend, will later be 'marching on.

Yes, I know you and your old maxim you were always quoting: Let him go and you'll keep him. Not let him go and you lose him. Yes, you did.

Just because we've paid our last respects to those we love, doesn't mean we're over losing them.

Everything seemed to be a clue to the hereafter, now that one of her own had gone there.

This is what keeps ghosts locked to the earth, that sweet burning need for something they loved and gave up too soon.

The years of her life tumbled out onto the floor like marbles that she would never be able to gather up again in one bowl. The years of her life had been a made puzzle that one day gets unmade, the pieces all scattered.

Only Gracie knew what it was like to wake up at night and feel how cold sheets can get on the empty side of a bed.

talking above the pain of his broken heart