Quotes About Emptiness

It is a terrible thing to find the love of your life.... You know too well what you're missing when it's gone.

And anyway, how do you talk about losing everything?

I couldn't have imagined how much more there was to lose.

It is a terrible thing to find the love of your life, Christina, she says. You know too well what you're missing when it's gone.

My heart is shattered, an all that's left are jagged shards.

It was during this period that she would wake in the night and get out of bed to go to her parents' room, only to realize, standing in the hall, that she had no parents.

Like many Waifs, Angela never learned to nourish herself emotionally, and suffered from an eating disorder. She simply could not take in or tolerate good feelings. She had to reject what she needed in order to protect herself from disappointment. She could not lose what she did not have.

Vetëm kur na ndodh që e humbasim diçka, e kthejmë kokën pas dhe fillojmë t'ia ndiejmë mungesën.

La vacuité d'un phénomène ou d'une chose, ce n'est pas son inexistence ni son absence, mais sa nature instable, mobile, subjective, complexe…

Und ich sehe Freds Gesicht, unerbittlich alt werdend, leergefressen von einem Leben, das nutzlos wäre und gewesen wäre ohne die Liebe, die er mir einflößt. Das Gesicht eines Mannes, der zu früh von Gleichgültigkeit erfaßt wurde gegen alles, was ernst zu nehmen andere Männer sich entschlossen haben. Und sagte kein einziges Wort S.39

I am not yet sure that I can live without her

I did not know what breath meant until she died. It was everything that gave me quickness and life: it was thought, feeling, animation. Without it there was nothing.

9p.m. My flat. Feel very strange and empty. Is all very well thinking everything is going to be different when you come back but then it is all the same. Suppose I have to make it different. But what am I going to do with my life? I know. Will eat some cheese.

A world without love is a deadly place.

Here's a word. Bereavement. Or, Bereaved. Bereft. It's from the Old English bereafian, meaning 'to deprive of, take away, seize, rob'. Robbed. Seized. It happens to everyone. But you feel it alone. Shocking loss isn't to be shared, no matter how hard you try.

You see that life will become a thing made of holes. Absences. Losses. Things that were there and are no longer. And you realise, too, that you have to grow around and between the gaps, though you can put your hand out to where things were and feel that tense, shining dullness of the space where the memories are.

Here's a word. Bereavement. Or, Bereaved. Bereft. It's from the Old English bereafian, meaning 'to deprive of, take away, seize, rob'.

cannot remember that my heart stopped beating at any particular time,' he wrote in his diary. 'The blow was so stunning, so final after six weeks of unremitting faith, that it was tempered to me as being beyond my appreciation. Death will be like this, something too vast to hurt much or perhaps even to upset me.' His

But also . . . I have plenty of people around me to talk to, and no one to be honest with.

I looked inside my typewriter. There's a city in there. Black and grey columns and no inhabitants.

How can you know me and want to die?

Miranda put a hand over her face and looked through her fingers, the world in pieces, her father's legs gone, the woman's torso vanished. Now they looked like broken dolls, their jaws clacking, breeze blowing through their hollows.

I miss her. So much that sometimes I'm scared I'll bring her back.

Looking at those last photos was like flipping through a book of silence.