Quotes About Tragedy

He was nearly erased by all the tragedy falling upon him. His Mamá had still ironed his shirts until she was taken ill. Everything on Earth was filled with sorrow. Little yellow weeds that broke through the tarmac made him feel weepy. The moon, like some pale paper cutout in the morning sky, overwhelmed him.

He wanted to tell them of the stars. Of the lovers in their hellish graves.

The media only cares about the Yuma 14 because of the large numbers. But this tragedy goes on every day. It never stops. If only one person dies out there, it is exactly the same horror story.

Nisso reside nossa possível tragédia: o desperdício de uma vida com seus talentos truncados se não conseguirmos ver ou não tivermos audácia para mudar para melhor — em qualquer momento, e em qualquer idade.

First they burned her - that was last month. Actually just two weeks ago. Now they're starvng him. When he's dead, they'll burn him too. Oh, how jolly. All this burning of family members in the summertime.

It is almost impossible to remember how tragic a place this world is when one is playing golf.

War is always the same. It is young men dying in the fullness of their promise. It is trying to kill a man that you do not even know well enough to hate. Therefore, to know war is to know that there is still madness in the world.

That bitch of a war killed the lady I really loved -- the Great Society.

The Plenimarans lay scattered in a wide circle. At its center, Seregil and Alec lay side by side, hands clasped between them even in death.

I cannot think of a life without him in it. I cannot bury another son. This time I fear they will have to put me in the ground with him.

In the cosmos of a tragedy, even one or two mitigating moments can turn aside an unqualified disaster. But sometimes disaster is without defect, and every one of the thousand instants on which destinies turn goes terribly and perfectly wrong.

Poland lost about 20 percent of its population, compared to 11 percent for the Soviet Union, 7 percent for Germany, and less than 1 percent for both the United States and Britain.

More people died in Warsaw alone during the war than did Americans in both European and Pacific combat theaters

The grieving Lindberghs were convinced that the excesses of the press were responsible for their son's abduction and murder. "If it were not for the publicity that surrounds us, we might still have him," Anne bitterly wrote in her diary.

Even before the tragedy, Lindbergh had come to hate the mass-circulation newspapers, viewing them as "a personification of malice, which deliberately urged on the crazy mob." That conviction was only strengthened when two news photographers broke into the morgue where his son's body lay, opened the casket, and took pictures of Charlie's remains.

Even before the tragedy, Lindbergh had come to hate the mass-circulation newspapers, viewing them as "a personification of malice, which deliberately urged on the crazy mob.

Missing is one of the true tragedies in life," he says. "That ache that nothing soothes. I thought time would soften it. It's supposed to, isn't it? But all these years later, I still long for what I had. What we all had. What is no more.

Titanic as it sank into the icy sea? Would you prefer that the men leap ahead of you into the lifeboats, leave you and your children to die?" Alva answered without pause. "If a woman had designed the ship in the first place, there would have been enough lifeboats for everyone.

you have to understand that a writer's job is to make their story as dramatic as possible. Yes, stories are recreations of real life, but no one lives one lifetime with all the tragedy that a Russian writer can cram into a novel.

its heart, it is a story about the power of music and its meanings — a story of secret messages and doublespeak, and of how music itself is a code; how music coaxes people to endure unthinkable tragedy; how it allows us to whisper between the prison bars when we cannot speak aloud; how it can still comfort the suffering, saying, "Whatever has befallen you — you are not alone.

By noon on the first day of Operation Barbarossa, the Germans had destroyed more planes than they did in a whole year of their air assault on Britain. The Russian air force had been neutralized almost without firing a shot. The Western Front's air force commander, staggered at the overwhelming futility of the loss, took out his gun and killed himself.

On June 26, a thousand Jews were beaten to death in a garage. The SS arranged for locals to perform the massacre. They thought it might look distasteful if they carried it out themselves.

Just within the limits of besieged Leningrad, there where days when more than ten thousand people died. Over the course of January and February alone, there were roughly two hundred thousand deaths. We cannot know the numbers exactly. All authority in the city had broken down. No one recorded deaths anymore. No one removed the bodies from the streets.

Halfway through the performance, she saw that one of the Musketeers had died of hunger. He lay on the floor with a shattered cup in his hand. The show, quite incredibly, went on.