Quotes About Loss

Down in Denver, down in Denver, all I did was die.

I was going to rise, do some typing and coffee drinking in the kitchen all day since at that time work, work was my dominant thought, not love- not the pain which impels me to write this even while I don't want to, the pain which won't be eased by writing of this but heightened, but which will be redeemed, and if only it were a dignified pain and could be placed somewhere other than this black gutter of shame and loss and noisemaking folly in the night... /The Subterraneans

The worst is missing them, you know? And knowing they won't be back again. Just knowing that. Sometimes you forget and it's as though they're on vacation or something and you think, gee, I wish they'd call. You miss them. You forget they're really gone. You forget the past six months even happened. Isn't that weird? Isn't that crazy? Then you catch yourself . . . and it's real again.

San Francisco is gone. Nothing remains of it but memories.

Do you know," he added, "I feel sorry for Mr. Butler. He was too young to know better, but he robbed himself of life for the sake of thirty thousand a year that's clean wasted upon him. Why, thirty thousand, lump sum, wouldn't buy for him right now what ten cents he was layin' up would have bought him, when he was a kid, in the way of candy an' peanuts or a seat in nigger heaven.

Anybody who knows about having a premature baby, it's horrific. He was part of a twin, and I lost his sister.

I was living near the Twin Towers on 9/11, so I saw the attacks, and I had friends who were killed in the attacks.

I had a twin, and he didn't make it.

Being a twin, and knowing if my twin was gone or lost - that's a part of me. There's no way I could be the same person knowing my brother had passed away.

When I was younger, before I was born, I lost my twin, so I think I've always had a fascination for telepathy or the way that twins act and react with each other.

I am still of opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood - sex and the dead.

Two things scare me. The first is getting hurt. But that's not nearly as scary as the second, which is losing.

A suicide kills two people, Maggie, that's what it's for!

For the first two weeks after he passed, we were done as a band. We were just done. And because of the fans and Jimmy's parents and relatives and stuff like that, they just demanded that we continue on and spread the legacy that is, you know, the crazy James 'The Rev' Sullivan.

Even if you didn't lose your job, if you're one of the two-thirds of Ontarians who don't have a pension, you lost savings. Even if you've earned most of that back now, you are a changed person. You are less secure, less confident. And I understand that.

My heart goes out to the grieving parents who lost their two-year-old or their newborn.

I got my very last tattoo after my father died. I'm not getting anymore; otherwise I'll end up like Mike Tyson with a tattoo on my face.

I like to have Chinese furniture in my home as a constant and painful reminder of how much has been destroyed in China. The contrast between the beauty of the past and the ugliness of the modern is nowhere sharper than in China.

My Ukrainian grandmother would tell amazing stories. She lost her father, and as children, we would always listen to her stories.

When I was 14, my mother died. My father, who had always had ulcers, came apart. He had a series of intestinal operations, and was in the hospital for nearly a year. So the four of us teenagers lived by ourselves in the apartment without a guardian.

For some small number of people, a parental loss appears to be, ultimately, a desirable difficulty - again, not a large number.

There is so much inherent drama in the matter of change. Disappointment in yourself and others, coping with the fact that life is essentially shipwreck, becoming a person you yourself could not imagine yourself to be, for good and for bad, and then ultimately there is the basic matter of loss.

I am deeply saddened and shocked at the loss of umpire Wally Bell.

In the earliest years of the AIDS crisis, there were many gay men who were unable to come out about the fact that their lovers were ill, A, and then dead, B. They were unable to get access to the hospital to see their lover, unable to call their parents and say, 'I have just lost the love of my life.'