Quotes About Loss

Every human being must find his own way to cope with such severe loss, and the only job of a true friend is to facilitate whatever method he chooses.

Every human being must find his own way to cope with severe loss, and the only job of a true friend is to facilitate whatever method he chooses.

Someone spoke of your death, Heraclitus. It brought meTears, and I remembered how often togetherWe ran the sun down with talk… somewhereYou've long been dust, my Halicarnassian friend.But your Nightingales live on. Though the Death-worldClaws at everything, it will not touch them.

They told me,Heraclitus,they told me you are dead, They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed... I wept when i remembered how often you and I Had tired the sun with talking,and sent him down the sky.

News of your death. Tears, and the memory of all the times we talked the sun down the sky. You, Herakleitos of Halikarnassos, once my friend, now vacant dust, whose poems are nightingales beyond the clutch of the unseen god.

The people of Abadan defended the city with empty hands, and our sons and brothers fell to the ground like flowers in the fall. My friend, believe me, today the date palms are broken. Tell me, when will our youth, our date palms, be green again?

Do you fear to lose me? Have I become so essential to you that you will treasure me always and never take me for granted?

But it is not my mother's heart that is buried there. Instead, I think that it is yours.

You did not lose! You gave it away of your own free will. You gave me away. You gave away love.

Your father threw away the greatest gift your mother could bestow- the gift of what their love created.

Grief and sorrow are one and the same. But until you feel regret for what is now forever out of reach, you do not truly mourn.

To heal, we must do more than grieve. We must also find a way to mourn.

Some things, of course, cannot be healed, no matter how much you want them to be, no matter how hard you try.

What happend to her? To Miranda?' Ulysses shrugged. 'What happens to most children. She got sick, and never got better.' 'And your wife?' 'The same.' 'But you said you were married,' said Will, glancing down at Ulysses's ring, smooth and lustrous in the half-light. 'I'll always be married. But it'll be the next world when I see her again.

the look in her eyes told Hedström that she would never really be alive again. He'd seen it happen a few times in the course of his career. People who looked as if they were alive, who were breathing and moving about, and yet they were completely empty inside.

there was something indefinably tired and worn-out about Birgit, like a photograph whose edges were missing their crispness.

His love for her had never been stronger. He caressed her arm, as if he were caressing the soul that had now left her body. He didn't look back when he left. It was not 'good-bye', it was 'until we meet again'.

He had lost almost everything, and nothing was as dangerous as a person who had nothing more to lose.

Il y a toujours quelque chose d'absent qui me tourmente.

You stole it all! My youth, my work! Everything!

Le désir, dit-il, c'est avoir quelque chose à gagner, et l'amour quelque chose à perdre.

hubo de conocer al hombre que había de labrarle la ruina; no la de la honra; que bien arruinada debía de andar ya por entonces, sino la del bolsillo, que una vez perdida aquélla, era por la única que tenía que mirar.

I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours —Abraham Lincoln

Time does not soften my grief, nor can I ever be reconciled to my loss until the grave closes over the remembrance and I am again with him. —Mary Lincoln