Quotes About Loss

she should have told me that times slides away on a hillside of lose shale and takes everything in its path-dreams, opportunities, hopes. And youth. It takes that fastest of all.

Their kiss was sad, an apology almost, a reminder of what they'd once shared.

I was not good at the whole making-death-a-positive-transition thing. How could I? I wanted her to fight to the last breath. It was a mistake. I should have listened to her fear, comforted her. Instead I'd promised her that everything would be okay, that she would heal.

I know, released, she won't come back. This is different from letting what, already, we count as lost go. It is nothing like that. Also, it is not like wanting to learn what losing a thing we love feels like, Oh yes: I love her.

Coping with any death is traumatic; suicide compounds the anguish because we are forced to deal with two traumatic events at the same time. According to the American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the level of stress resulting from the suicide of a loved one is ranked as catastrophic–equivalent to that of a concentration camp experience.

The roller coaster of emotions following a suicide causes intense feelings of isolation and a breaking apart from all that once seemed familiar.

Most of us adapt; eventually learning to navigate on ground we no longer trust to be steady. We gradually come to accept that our questions will not be answered. We try not to torture ourselves for having failed to predict the coming catastrophe and preventing our loved ones from taking their lives.

My dad died at a point in his life when he was mentally at peace.

The city gate opened when she and Harper reached the causeway. Her mind barely registered the new walls and the number of soldiers lining the ramparts who were cheering them. Oh, don't, she wanted to tell them. We have lost so much.

Quel povero diavolo è stato derubato di quattro monete d'oro: pigliatelo dunque e mettetelo subito in prigione.

Senza amore, muori. Con l'amore, anche. Non tutte le morti sono uguali

A stupid person is a person who causes losses to another person or to a group of persons while himself deriving no gain and even possibly incurring losses.

From action or inaction each one of us derives a gain or a loss and at the same time one causes a gain or a loss to some one else.

It's suffering because we must lose what we have and are attached to. Because everything that begins must end. What causes us to suffer is not in the past or the future: it is here, now, in our memory, in our expectations. We long for timelessness, we endure the passing of time: we suffer time. Time is suffering.

Anche le parole che ora diciamo il tempo nella sua rapina ha già portato via e nulla torna (I, 11)

Even the words that we are speaking now thieving time has stolen away, and nothing can return. (I, 11)

Albert Einstein, yak?n dostu ?talyan Michele Besso öldü?ünde onun k?z karde?ine dokunakl? bir mektu yazm??t?: "Michele bu garip dünyadan benden biraz önce ayr?ld?. Bunun hiçbir anlam? yok. Bizim gibi fizi?e inanan insanlar, geçmi?, ?imdi ve gelecek aras?ndaki ayr?m?n sürüp giden inatç? bir yan?lsamadan ba?ka bir ?ey olmad???n? bilir.

Memory is this, not the target dead on center but the hurt unwept.

I touch your absence here Remembering the speeches of your hair.

Fácil é julgar pessoas que estão sendo expostas pelas circunstâncias. Difícil é encontrar e refletir sobre seus erros, ou tentar fazer diferente algo que já fez muito errado. E é assim que perdemos pessoas especiais

Ninguém quer extraviar um livro. Preferimos perder um anel, um relógio, o chapéu-de-chuva, do que o livro cujas páginas não mais leremos mas que conservam, na sonoridade do seu título, uma antiga e talvez perdida emoção.

Kimse bir kitap kaybetmek istemez. Bir daha okumayacak olsak da ba?l???nda eski, belki de kaybolmu? bir duyguyu ta??yan bir kitab? kaybetmektense bir yüzük, saat veya ?emsiye kaybetmeyi ye?leriz.

But in good time you'll see that sometimes what matters isn't what one gives but what one gives up.

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