Quotes About Loss

La tragedia, como el amor, hace que la gente se vuelva ciega.

The thing was, all mortals were going to lose the ones they loved. It was the way life worked. But for most of the time, that reality was so far off in the mind that it had no more weight than a mere hypothetical. There were reminders, however, and the almost's, the near-misses, the oh-God-please-no's, snapped your chain and got you to stop and feel what was in your heart.

There were times in life when, as much as you wanted to fight for something, you just had to let it go. You didn't have to like the failure. You didn't have to feel really fucking great about the way things turned out. And you certainly didn't walk away from the shit scot-free, without being seriously damaged by the loss, crippled even. But you needed to let that stuff go, because expending the energy wasn't going to get you anywhere, and you might as well get on with getting used to the loss.

Being left behind was a special kind of loss. —

Going around behind the Dumpster he looked at his dead civilian and found it hard to breathe. The king knelt down and carefully brushed the hair back from the male's beaten-to-shit face. Clearly, the guy had fought back, taking a number of hits before getting stabbed through the heart. Brave kid. Wrath cupped the nape of the male's neck, slid his other arm under the knees, and slowly rose. The weight of the dead was heavier than the pounds of the body.

How do you reconcile both gratitude and grief, he wondered. "Thank you," he said softly. "I'm going to love her with everything I'm worth, for the rest of my life, and I owe it all to you." "My sacrifice didn't mean shit, remember?" the angel returned. "Just enjoy true love enough for the both of us, okay?

Are you all right?" she asked. In a voice that sounded absolutely, positively, exactly, like his brother's dead shellan. —

Alguna vez había sido un ser vivo, una hija, una hermana... alguien... Ahora se estaba endureciendo y volviéndose como el acero, en medio de su pesadilla. Embalsamada.

Butch let his head fall loose on his shoulders and he wept openly… though not out of happiness, as they must have assumed. He wept at the hollowness he felt. Because however wonderful this all was, it seemed empty to him. Without his mate to share his life with, he was but a screen for events and circumstances to pass through. He was not even empty, for he was no vessel to hold even the thinnest of air. He lived, though was not truly alive.

Tragedy, like love, makes people blind," he said, as if he could read her regrets.

The dead were immortal in the souls of those they left behind, and the payment for that permanence was pain.

No tienes miedo?" preguntó. "No. Solo me aterroriza perderte.

Yo no quiero perderte." "No quiero que me pierdas.

He shook his head as he stared at the closed door. You never knew the last time you were seeing someone. You didn't know when the last argument happened, or the last time you had sex, or the last time you looked into their eyes and thanked God they were in your life. After they were gone? That was all you thought about. Day and night.

When Ehlena finally spoke, her voice was a thin whisper. "Don't do this to me. Don't make me see you in the morgue. Don't do that to me." Rehv squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm not doing anything to you." "The hell you aren't." Her voice cracked on a sob. "Ehlena…" -Ehlena & Rehv

No» sibilò. Con la voce che gli risuonava nel cranio decise di ascoltare se stesso. Basta. Doveva chiuderla lì. Molto tempo prima aveva perso la testa per quella persona. No c'era motivo di perdere anche l'anima.

They massacred the servants before killing my parents. I saw it all through a knothole in the wood. As I said, my eyes were better back then.

Vuoi sapere cos'è la morte? Te lo dico io cos'è.... la morte è la vita che si dimentica di te! Come profumi e che aspetto hai, che suono ha la tua voce, come ridi! Anche se c'è una vita dopo la morte, la mia morte sarà tu che vai avanti Senza di me fino a che non ti ricorderai più di che colore sono i miei occhi o quanto lunghi sono i miei capelli....

Great loss, like death, required time to become real. The brain needed to get trained in the absence, the never again, the there-but-now-gone. Emotions, after all, could be so strong that they could warp reality—not in the sense that mourning could resurrect what had been lost, but more like grief could sharpen recollection to such painful degrees that it was as if you could call the person to you, touch them . . . hold them.

people didn't have to be dead to be out of your life.

Time was draining out like water from a bath, leaving a whole lot of cold in its absence

Tohr meneó con pesar la cabeza y miró fijamente la puerta cerrada. Nunca sabes cuál es la última vez que verás a alguien. No sabes si acabas de tener la última discusión con esa persona, o si le has hecho el amor por última vez, o si la estás mirando a los ojos y dándole las gracias por existir por última vez en la vida. Y cuando mueren, cuando ya lo sabes, es lo único en lo que piensas. Noche y día.

Vuoi sapere cos'è la morte? Te lo dico io cos'è.... la morte è la vita che si dimentica di te! Come profumi e che aspetto hai, che suono ha la tua voce, come ridi! Anche se c'è una vita dopo la morte, la mia morte sarà tu che vai avanti Senza di me fino a che non ti ricorderai più di che colore sono i miei occhi o quanto lunghi sono i miei capelli.... Le Ombre by J.R.Ward

I gave him everything and it didn't work out. He didn't love me.