Loss Quotes
Sometimes you're going to have to let one person go a thousand different times, a thousand different ways, and there's nothing pathetic or abnormal about that. You are human.
If you love something, know that it will leave on a day you are far from ready.
Maybe this was my punishment, and perhaps justly so. 'It wasn't meant to be', Khala Jamila had said. Or, maybe, it was meant not to be.
I had heard the wind from the mountains calling me last night, telling me it was my time to go, and I woke up, knowing what to do.
I was the last of the four Dresden dolls. Only me... and I didn't want to be here.
The sun was hot and bright. A day for fishing, for swimming, for playing tennis and having fun, and they put my Christopher in the ground.
Grief leads you to believe that life will never be ordinary again, and it never really will be for it is made extraordinary as it is touched and transformed by our greatest loves and deepest losses.
The things left unsaid to people we care about, and the void those unspoken words leave, often have more impact than what is said.
After she was gone, I sheathed her sword at my belt, draped her cloak over my shoulders, carried her heart in my arms, and, somehow, went on.
There are few things emptier than the space where a Christmas tree used to be.
Perhaps it is worse when love has flowed freely to find it one day dammed.
One small decision can shape an entire life. Sometimes, if you're lucky, the biggest hardship can lead to your greatest blessing. It just takes time to see that God works in mysterious ways.
Their boots were black and shiny and your treasures gleamed like stars, Bones from deep down in the fertile crescent.
Sometimes we hold the world in our hands, but in our greed for more let it fall, losing everything that we once had.
Perfect devices: doctors, ghosts and crows. We can do things other characters can't, like eat sorrow, un-birth secrets and have theatrical battles with language and God.
Walk with me, memory to memory, the shared path, the mutual view. Walk with me. The past lies in wait. It is not behind. It seems to be in front. How else could it trip me as as I start to run?
I wanted to pretend for just a little longer that I was whole again. Happy. Then I'd figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on.
Maybe I’d lost something. Maybe I’d lost a lot—more, even, than I could suffer—but I still had my own self. And lonesome as I might be, wasn’t no force on Earth or from above what could make me less.
As when we can recall so vividlyWe almost touch, Or think of all the gestures that we failedTo make.
It could be kindness. Faith felt hollow at the thought. She had needed kindness before, and has received none. Now it was too late, and she did not know what to do with it.
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Pages burnt, memories buried, I wakeor think I'm awake. Or dreaming still?
Walk with me, memory to memory, the shared path, the mutual view. Walk with me. The past lies in wait. It is not behind. It seems to be in front. How else could it trip me as I start to run?
Did you ever know, dear, how much you took away with you when you left? You have stripped me even of my past, even of the things we never shared.
Time heals nothing. It only brings other issues and tissues, and takes what is incurable or unacceptable out of the center of our attention.
Because we had known the good times, I think my brother and I felt the loss more acutely. My father's waning presence, his chronic absence, his disappearance. Now he was just a memory.
Loss is the uninvited door that extends us an unexpected invitation to unimaginable possibilities.
I am sad when I think that the years go by like sacks that we mark "Returned Empty, " sad when I think that we shall be separated from one another and from ourselves.
We would prefer all gain and no loss in life, yet that would gain us nothing more than great loss.
I don't know about the first steps in a geography of loss, and I know that it's unmapped. I know that we all have to go by ourselves.
What is gone is gone and will not come back. When the earth swallows, it swallows forever and we are left to stumble along feeling the absences. These are our burdens.
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Isobel had entrusted the note to Gwen just before Baltimore. And the small scrap of paper still remained her only tangible evidence that Varen had loved her.Expect...he didn't anymore.
Love came from all directions. On paper, on screens, in dishes and words and deeds. We’re thinking of you every minute.I’m sorry.We’re sorry.We’re so sorry…
We burn out not because we don't care but because we don't grieve. We burn out because we have allowed our hearts to become so filled with loss that we have no room left to care.
A hole is a space where everything has been moved out so that opportunity has space to move in.
Celaena knew where she was before she awoke. And she didn't care. She was living the same story again and
Dare my guilty heart admit the horrible acknowledgement that I love you still?
I'm sorry, I didn't mean--""To speak of it?" asked the K'mir. Diane nodded. "You have to, just to bleed off the poison from the memory.
If misery were water, he thinks as he climbs into his car and turns the key, I could just drown or let it wash me away entirely.
I miss you so much. Maybe if I say your name over and over again, it will eventually feel wrong to me. Like a word you write too many times suddenly doesn't look right anymore. I will try that.
He may take long walksin the raining darkalmost aimlesslyto a spot of soaked grassin a neighbor’s open field.He’s decided this is the placefor you and him to meet again.