Loss Quotes - Page 29

If you’re searching for a quote that puts your feelings into words – you won’t find it.You can learn every language and read every word ever written – but you’ll never find what’s in your heart.How can you?He has it.

I cannot lament the loss of a love or a friendship without meditating that one loses only what one really never had.

It's hard to be done a favor by a man you hate. It's hard to hate him so much afterwards. Losing an enemy can be worse than losing a friend, if you've had him for long enough.

You have to understand what you’re missing before you can really feel a loss.

How could you go about choosing something that would hold the half of your heart you had to bury?

Sometimes when a star collapses, it becomes a fiery supernova, but other times the core density is so great that it quietly consumes itself, forming a black hole, its gravitational pull so terrible that nothing can escape, not even light.You can't see a black hole, but if you look closesly, you can witness its effect on those objects nearest to it - the way it changes the orbit of solar systems or draws off a star's light a little at a time, sucking it down to its dense center,Maybe we couldn't have stopped Jesse's collapse, but we should have seen it happening.

Mothering while grieving should involve being understanding and keeping a gentle attitude toward yourself as you work to balance your own needs and your child's. You become stronger by remaining aware of your own well-being, which in turn makes you a stronger person for your child or children.

Passionate people are always ready to stand for their dreams even if no one stand with them. They vote and vote alone for their dreams but never loss their nomination for excellent leadership!

A relationship between two people is made up, for the most part, of invisible things: memories, shared experiences, hopes and fears. When one person disappears, the other is left alone, as if holding a string with no kite. Memories can do a lot to sustain you, but the invisible stuff of the relationship is lost, even as unresolved issues remain: arguments never settled, kind words never uttered, things left un-said. They become like a splinter beneath the skin-unseen, but painful nevertheless. Until they're exposed, coping with the loss is impossible.

Heartache, guilt, loss, grief, these things, too, are monsters.

When you've gone through something traumatic, when you've faced death and loss as much as we have, it's only natural that it changes your entire view of life.

Nora had been training herself not to think too much about her kids. Not because she wanted to forget them - not at all - but because she wanted to remember them more accurately. For the same reason, she tried not to look too often at old photographs or videos...After a while, these scraps hardened into a kind of official narrative that crowded out thousands of equally valid memories, shunting the losers to some cluttered basement storage area in her brain.

Talking to you is like talking to someone I’ve never met before. When did you become so competitive? When did you decide that you needed to win all of the time?’He stopped dead in the promenade and grabbed her hand, turning her to face him.He caught her by surprise. She leant her neck backwards slightly in defence.‘When I lost you.

Yes, I've lost him. But I don't have to lose myself.

For so long, she had remained the sleeping volcano, her passion and pain and anger roiling quietly as lava within. She’d buried her love deep within her core; with heat and pressure she made diamonds of it all, gemstones precious and beautiful, glittering and indestructible and of no use but to be hoarded in her heart.

I wanted to forgive my mom and my dad so badly for the deep hurt they caused, the fear their broken marriage invoked in me, but I also didn’t want to pretend anymore. Pretending is exhausting.

After a dazed moment, Specialist Kit Murphy put his arms loosely around her, and Josie Schaeffer clung to him, knowing this man was not her husband, that her husband was never coming back, but for now she was as close to him as she could get and she would not let him go.

Healing from a loss doesn't happen on schedule.You need to give the head and heart time to catch up with the reality.

Be patient. Your skin took a while to deteriorate. Give it some time to reflect a calmer inner state. As one of my friends states on his Facebook profile: "The true Losers in Life, are not those who Try and Fail, but those who Fail to Try.

When's something difficult to come by, you'll do that much more to make sure it's even harder- if not impossible- to lose.

...she did remember on time when she got her period, sliding open the cupboard under the bathroom sink to get a sanitary napkin; she remembered looking at the box of Stayfree pads and thinking that the box looked almost smug, seemed almost to be saying: Hello, Patty! We are your children. We are the only children you will ever have, and we are hungry. Nurse us. Nurse us on blood.

Forget about what you might have lost but instead focus on what you have room to gain.

Sometimes I hear the world discussed as the realm of men. This is not my experience. I have watched men fall to the ground like leaves. They were swept up as memories, and burned. History owns them. These men were petrified in both senses of the word: paralyzed and turned to stone. Their refusal to express feeling killed them. Anachronistic men. Those poor, poor boys.

I used to feel afraid of the future, always assuming the worst. But now I've realized that my worst fears have already happened, and I've survived them! I've walked into the fire and made it out alive. Only the loss of a close loved one could have "woken me up" to reality in the same way.

It’s difficult to ever go back to the same places or people. You turn away, even for a moment, and when you turn back around, everything’s changed.

The old Amy, the girl of the big laugh and the easy ways, literally shed herself, a pile of skin and soul on the floor, and stepped this new, brittle, bitter Amy ... a razor-wire knot daring me to unloop her, and I was not up to the job with my thick, numb, nervous fingers. Country fingers. Flyover fingers untrained in the intricate, dangerous work of 'solving Amy'. When I'd hold up the bloody stumps, she'd sigh and turn to her secret mental notebooks on which she tallied all my deficiencies, forever noting disappointments, frailties, shortcomings.

Goodbye," she told him, running her hand across his broad back one last time. "I love you. And I'll never, ever stop missing you.

I have been at war with parts of myself for so long

Well, this might sound stupid but I think he was my best friend. Like the other half of me. I'm so scared something might have happened to him when he went back. I miss him so much sometimes I look at windows and I want to just walk right through them -- like press myself through the glass. I want their sharp edges to fragment me.

Even as I hold you, I am letting you go.

Horror shares an edge with hilarity.

The breeze around them seemed to drop – dead – like a door to the best things had just closed.

I am the most important person to me. I am the most important person in the entire universe to me. I am the centre of my own universe.

The fearful have lost faith while the fearless allow faith to lead the way.

I didn’t want to get burned. I didn't want to be the other woman, but I wanted him with all my might.

Only marriage combines all three forms of companionship - spouse is family, best friend, and permanent companion. This is why it is widely held that while the death of a child is the most painful loss, the death of a spouse is the most disorienting one.

The last time she had seen him in the flesh, all the vital force of his life stripped away, his sharpened face had confronted her with such a fearful fixed finality of sightless indifference that she had been frozen in mortal terror, engulfed by abysmal despair. After all the years of unfailing support, his huge, inhuman, deaf, blind inaccessibility was horrifying. He had not kept his promise. He had abandoned her, left her to suffer alone.

Love built on pain-the kind that lasts: whatever you love can be taken away from us at any moment but the loss of what we love belongs to us forever.

Forgiveness is a conscious choice to become more liberated and less constrained by the past. This simple act of changing one’s mindset can be the wellspring of tolerance, mercy, and compassion.

A dark shadow rose from the depth of the watercourse. Forced to crawl out of the oceans rolling waves, it struggled against the pull of the undertow. Rising, it moved further up the white sandy beach away from the cold water. The creature collapsed onto the cool sand as the crescent moon above shone on his sleek gray skin revealing two immense leather-like wings protruding from his back. Exhaustion clouded his mind. The darkness of night was soothing, refreshing. Somehow he knew it would bring him strength and sustenance. The creature watched as a great rolling storm cloud sunk into the salty water before him and he tried to remember why he had come.

I need to confront my loss, not run away from it. I wanted to wade in with my eyes open and all my senses alert. I wanted to register everything, from the giant waves of sorrow to the inkiest ripples of remorse. I didn't want to miss any of it.

I kept thinking back to all those nights in Connecticut, when I was out the door as soon as dinner was over, yelling my plans behind me as I headed to my car, ready for my real night to begin—my time with my family just something to get through as quickly as possible. And now that I knew that the time we had together was limited, I was holding on to it, trying to stretch it out, all the while wishing I’d appreciated what I’d had earlier.

That is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it.

Some thoughts should never be conceived. Some questions should never be asked, because they have no answer, and the questions themselves serve only to haunt with grinding guilt and second guessing.

When life hands you the unthinkable you must find new ways to see.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been gone, but you have to move on. If not today, then someday soon.I love you, Ryden, I will always love you, but I’m not here anymore.

What if I'm so broken I can never do something as basic as feed myself? Do you realize how twisted that is? It amazes me sometimes that humans still exist. We're just animals, after all. And how can an animal get so removed from nature that it loses the instinct to keep itself alive?

All loss is one, and one loss becomes all, a single death is the key to the gate that bars memory.

Have you ever lost someone close to you? Someone who is at the core of your universe, the hero of all your stories...when that happens, it isn’t just the loss of one life, it’s the loss of two lives - one who found another world, perhaps...and one who is left behind.

Christmas is such a time of struggle anyway, crammed with busy and hurry and the expectation that you will be joyful, no matter what. Then, if you’re like me, when you just sit quietly, just be, and let yourself feel what you feel, the guilt creeps in. Because you’re alive and the world is big, and you should be feeling some freakin’ Christmas spirit.

Maybe you had to come close to losing something before you could remember its value.

If you cannot hold me in your arms, then hold my memory in high regard.And if I cannot be in your life, then at least let me live in your heart.

Always remember that you are the observer and not the doer. Do not take life to be anything more than acting. Don’t identify yourself too much with the action.Whether you are a wife or husband, a businessman or client, don’t get too involved. Don’t lose yourself in it, for you are simply playing a role in the play. Keep outside of it, and within yourself. These are all necessary parts of life. You must go to work, it is necessary. The play is delightful if you see it as play, but it is fatal if you take it to be life. There is no reason so disrupt your life. You have to play the part that life has given you.

How does the moon feel as it sees the ocean lap at your shores? The eternal pain of knowing you are there but forever out of reach...

He wanted it to be just right; he didn’t want to make the mistake of trying to tell her he loved her, and having the words come out confused or ending up saying something completely different. He changed into a fresh suit, checked his hair and took a few deep breaths to calm himself, before returning to Amelia’s chambers…only to find her gone. A sigh of frustration escaped him. It was so typical. He told her there was a surprise for her, she was excited, and he was about to confess that he loved her…of course it was only natural for her to ruin it by running off. It was so typically Amelia.

It is not triumph which defines a man, but tragedy. Triumph always brings out the best in men, but tragedy shows us what we are made of.

My encounter with desperation while witnessing the death of a precious child changed me, teaching me that although we will have sad times, we can move on, chastened and changed but resilient and hopeful. Laurel showed me one way to live with hope as well as cancer as she thrived even when tumors grew within her small body. She exhibited how a child can push aside despair and appreciate as many moments as possible, to believe in the power of resurrection, both the human spirit and in a Biblical sense.

Suffering invites us to place our hurts in larger hands. In Christ we see God suffering – for us. And calling us to share in God’s suffering love for a hurting world. The small and even overpowering pains of our lives are intimately connected with the greater pains of Christ. Our daily sorrows are anchored in a greater sorrow and therefore a larger hope.

Weeping Widows"There is a river that cuts ThroughThe heart of EveAnd flows throughParadise's back window.It streams into A bottomless wellThat rolls down to hellWith the tears of theWeeping widows.The women stand along the well,And cryWhile singing gray lullabiesAs orphaned childrenLight up candles to put on palm leavesTo push into the streamWith petals of jasmine And pieces of tangerine,Then sit back and wait for their fatherTo show up over the horizon Where his heart still beatsIn their dreams.

A day doesn't go by when I don't look at them, she said. I can't have them up on the kitchen refrigerator or in a frame in the bedroom--I just can't do it, I just can't run into them casually when I'm supposed to be doing something else--but I also can't last a day without seeing them. Visiting with them when I am alone in the house.