Quotes About Tragedy

When I was 19 years old, both of my parents died in the same year; my mom of cancer and my dad in a car accident. Through the next two or three years and a series of bad decisions - all my own, I might add - I ended up literally homeless, before that was even a word. I even slept occasionally under a pier on the Gulf Coast.

In the beginning, I wanted to work with Slim Duncan. He actually passed away right around when I started making beats.

I've seen so many women in my family, so many mothers, that have lost children in the war in such absurd ways. I wonder how they do it. How do they keep living? How do they keep smiling?

Heath Ledger's recent death, like that of River Phoenix, was handled with great care by the press. Anna Nicole Smith's not so much.

I think the fact that my wife died in Mexico City makes it very important to me; my life went up in smoke at that moment, the family and the future we were going to have. At that point, I was anchored to the city in a way I've never been anchored to a place before.

I was in Pakistan in Islamabad when Bhutto was assassinated, and the next day, you know, there's just plumes of smoke everywhere. I mean, Islamabad is on fire.

It's not right to think about all of Jewish-German history as shrouded by the smoke of the crematorium.

In the context of September 11, there were so many that lost their lives that - how do you single out one person? There were so many acts of heroism that day from so many people, whether it be firemen and police officers in New York and our agents also.

So many people that I've wanted to work with have died. I was so crazy in love with Amy Winehouse. When she died, I felt like I lost my sister all over again. I couldn't stop crying for weeks and weeks! It was horrible! She was so wonderful and so talented.

Titus Andronicus:

Light griefs can speak: deep sorrows are dumb.      —Seneca, Hippolytus, act ii. scene 3.] A

Someone at work said to me this morning, "Where is God in all this?" I didn't rise to the bait. I can never understand why people ask that question. The real question for the bystanders of tragedy is "Where are WE in all this?" I've always tried to come up with answers to that challenge. I don't know if I can at the moment. Pray for me.

Someone at work said to me this morning, "Where is God in all this?" I didn't rise to the bait. I can never understand why people ask that question. The real question for the bystanders of tragedy is "Where are WE in all this?

He strode in excitedly and they turned to face him. Dr Little looked grave and Aunt Nance had been crying. They didn't need to say anything. He knew that Zach was dead.

He knew that Zach was dead.

Tragedy, in its full and life-altering form, happened to other people.

train wreck

Christianity has impoverished us because it has cut the cosmic roots of the tragedy, of man's celestial history. We weren't born 6,000 years ago, but hundreds of thousands of years ago. We do not come from this Earth, we have our ancestral origins in other stars.

Tell me, doc. Tell me. Why do they have wars?" I shook my head. Was there ever a good reason? To make the world safe for democracy? To stop the death camps? To free the slaves? Maybe. Those were better reasons than cheap oil. But up close, no matter what the reason, it was husbands and sons and brothers who never came home.

El fin de todo esto es trágico: el que hace muy poco se sabía con el poder en las manos, se encuentra de pronto inmóvil en una caja de madera; y los que lo rodean, conscientes de su inutilidad, le queman en un horno.

Pogroms were whipped up every minute and people were murdered daily, especially Jews of course.

I have just been cut in half by a streetcar at Patriarch's. Funeral Friday 3PM. Come. Berlioz

L'amour surgit devant nous comme surgit de terre l'assassin au coin d'une ruelle obscure, et nous frappa tous deux d'un coup. Ainsi frappe la foudre, ainsi frappe le poignard !

The snow would just melt, the green Ukrainian grass would grow again and weave its carpet over the earth . . . The gorgeous sunrises would come again . . . The air would shimmer with heat above the fields and no more traces of blood would remain. Blood is cheap on those red fields and no one would redeem it.