Loss Quotes - Page 10

Inside a home you left me, a blue orphanage. Inside a bluish mosaic, space to live.

And then he went in the evening up to the nursery and told the boy how his mother was gone for a while to Elfland, to her father's palace (which may only be told of in song). And, unheeding any words of Orion then, he held on with the brief tale that he had come to tell, and told how Elfland was gone."But that cannot be," said Orion, "for I hear the horns of Elfland every day.""You can hear them?" Alveric said.And the boy replied, "I hear them blowing at evening.

Sometimes it takes great suffering to pierce the soul and open it up to greatness

How awful it was, thought Tessa, remembering Fats the toddler, the way tiny ghosts of your living children haunted your heart; they could never know, and would hate it if they did, how their growing was a constant bereavement.

I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures.

You're gone and you left me. My heart has dissipated. The only thing I can feel is the blood rushing through my veins and the strings that hold my fragile heart together.

Olga was nice, Olga was nice and loving, Olga loved him, he repeated to himself with a growing sadness as he also realised that nothing would ever happen between them again, life sometimes offers you a chance he thought, but when you are too cowardly or too indecisive to seize it life takes the cards away; there is a moment for doing things and entering a possible happiness, and this moment lasts a few days, a few weeks or even a few months, but it only happens once and one time only, and if you want to return to it later it's quite simply impossible. There's no more place for enthusiasm, belief and faith, and there remains just gentle resignation, a sad and reciprocal pity, the useless but correct sensation that something could have happened, that you just simply showed yourself unworthy of this gift you had been offered.

No matter how hard it is to see kid tears, grown-up tears are worse to watch.

Your smile and your laughter lit my whole world.

My choices are rejections, since there is no other way,but what I reject is more numerous,denser, more demanding than before.A little poem, a sigh, at the cost of indescribable loss.

Grief is a good thing. It's the way we get through the transitions of life.

We never truly "get over" a loss, but we can move forward and evolve from it.

When love dies, the heart's ashes do not leave on the wind—they rest on the mantelpiece of the soul, darkening the sunrise we once saw to be beautiful.

Though life has fated that we never cross paths again, don’t ever feel alone. For we are parallel …. and I will always be by your side.

Books required no interchanges of thoughts and feelings, no trading of expectations, no traffic of words, no menace of real loss. Reading books required far less energy than reading people; the pages seldom disappointed him and they never died.

..there are times when it is best to be content with what one has, so as not to lose everything.

Life was about loss. One minute standing on the promise of your dreams, then free-falling backward into nothingness. Is this what it meant to grow old? To gradually be stripped of all you cared about. And then what? Were you supposed to spend the rest of your life, dreaming about the past while you waited to die? Or did you start a new life, set the cycle in motion once again. Take the chance of losing that, too. And if you did, what happened to the old life? Did it die away from lack of attention?

Love may precede respect but it cannot survive the loss of it.

Life luscious wet life bereft of death, loss of empty shell minus absent of nothing exploding star cell amoeba sweet algae oxygen, hydrogen flowering in the vacuum ofspace and magnetic motion.

Loss is a part of life, that doesn't make it easy... that makes it inevitable...

Perhaps it is worse when love has flowed freely to find it one day dammed.

But forever was a useless term, relevant only for the dead.

Do not grieve so much for a husband lost that it wastes away your life.

Give yourself a set period of time to grieve and heal before focusing on financial matters.

There at the cross, we see all pain and darkness conquered in such a way that it is defeated forever. Not by disregarding it. Not by denying it. But by giving value even to our tears. By loving everything about us, including our very worst hurts.

My mind couldn't fit itself around the shape of his absence.

I wish to go down under the waters—the cool, crystalline waters that I knew, where allthat is, here, existing, isis only to be lost within the susurrationsand the rumours of water and the evening starwe wait for...

Only the debris of wreckage, and not much of that, was left behind by the sharks who fed on tragedy: the fishermen, too, mourned the death of a living child.

I could no longer desire physically without feeling a need for her, without suffering from her absence.

Think about it. There isn't heartache if there hasn't been joy. I wouldn't feel loss if there hadn't been love. You couldn't take my pain away without removing Bailey from my heart. I would rather have this pain now then never have known him. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

... some wounds refuse the remedy of time.

I do not know where I am going or what I will do when I get there. I know only that to put one foot in front of the other, moves me on, away from you to a place, where I do not want to be.

Here the whole world (stars, water, air,And field, and forest, as they wereReflected in a single mind)Like cast off clothes was left behindIn ashes, yet with hopes that she,Re-born from holy poverty,In lenten lands, hereafter mayResume them on her Easter Day."(Epitaph for Joy Davidman)

She looked so disappointed, so grieved and desperate that Clem longed to comfort her, only he couldn't think of thing to say that she hadn't heard a hundred times from Dad and Dr. Snow and Mrs. Mack: how things would get better in time, though no one knew how much time, and that life might be a little better for her and Jess once school began again.

We are strengthening by different experiences in life;Sad times, happy moments.Poverty, riches.Failure, success.Troubles, good times.Losing, winning.

There's solace in the thought that I will never finish missing her.

It was possible, I found, to both mourn a loss and yet be grateful it happened.

I'm sick of the images trapped in my headI'm sick of being preoccupied with the dead

Loss makes the soul sick

We can lose money, But the loss of human life is loss forever.

Then I think of Charlie and our first New Year’s apart, and how I miss him. I miss him so much, but it’s confusing, because I missed him long before he was dead, and that’s the bitch of it all. I missed him long before he was dead.

All four of us were young and undaunted and our smiles were so strong that it made me smile even then on the couch, with a kind of loss.

You kissed me that morning as if you’d never done it before and never would again and now I write another letter that I will never dare to send, collecting memories of loss like chains tight around my chest,and if you see a fire from the shore tonightit’s my chains going up in flames.

I'm sometimes scared that I'm forgetting what my dad was like.

I’d won the worldbut like aforsaken explorer,I’d lostmy map.

When you are at a loss of words then go with your feelings. If you feel nothing you must rely on your thinking. If your thinking is not clear then lean on the spirit. With Spirit you cannot go wrong!

The fear of losing someone you love can turn people inside out.

Though it’s reasons to burn may vary... you are always the fuel of my fire.

He had not been sleeping well over Christmas. Actually, he hadn’t been doing anything well over Christmas – eating, sleeping, exercising, talking, looking after himself, laughing, crying… No, he hadn’t really been crying despite all the pain he felt. It was just tearing him up inside, quietly. It was like his insides were being ripped up by an angered tiger.

Let it rain on some days,Let yourself shiver on some cold nights, So when it's Spring you'll know why it was all worth going through.

...the nostalgia for things that weren't yet lost.

Laine slowly rolled out of bed. The queen size was one of the few new things in the house. But now, even the new bed felt tainted. It was an inner-spring monument to lies, a petri dish of mendacity she had shared with her faithless husband, and shared now with creeping dreams that flew from the light but left harsh scratches and diseased black feathers. Laine promised herself that, as soon as, she could, she would rid herself of this house, this bed, her clothes, her jewelry - everything but the flesh she lived in. She would scrub herself clean and flee to start a new life whose first and only commandment would be: Never let thyself be lied to again.

Because Dad told you he'd be here forever. Because I thought forever was like Mars -- far away.

I didn't have enough other people in my life to cover the loss of this many people at once. I didn't have spare aunties or cousins or grandparents. I didn't have backup. I didn't have insurance to cover a loss like this.

It’s like everyone has their own little recipe for happiness, but no one really seems all that happy.

Now there is one thing I can tell you: you will enjoy certain pleasures you would not fathom now. When you still had your mother you often thought of the days when you would have her no longer. Now you will often think of days past when you had her. When you are used to this horrible thing that they will forever be cast into the past, then you will gently feel her revive, returning to take her place, her entire place, beside you. At the present time, this is not yet possible. Let yourself be inert, wait till the incomprehensible power ... that has broken you restores you a little, I say a little, for henceforth you will always keep something broken about you. Tell yourself this, too, for it is a kind of pleasure to know that you will never love less, that you will never be consoled, that you will constantly remember more and more.

I'll remember you... I remember everyone I've lost.

Was there a language of loss? Did everyone who suffered speak a different dialect?

How can I judge?" she said at last. "To me, he is a hero. To the world a monster." She let her head fall into her arms and started crying quietly. "I miss him! Curse him! I miss him!"Mithorden put a hand on her shoulder and let her cry for a few minutes. A sad smile slowly spread across his face. "I'm glad you can forgive him," he said at last.Luthiel lifted her head. "How do you know?"Because you miss him.

Listen to me: die after me, all right? I don't care what else you do, where you go, how you screw up your life, just... survive. Outlive me, please.