Quotessence
Home / Topics / Death Of A Loved One Quotes

Death Of A Loved One Quotes

Browse 679 quotes about Death Of A Loved One.

Related topics

Death Of A Loved One Quotes

“The bodhi tree has been converted into a marriage tree. The belief is that young women who die before marriage should have a husband in the next world. Their relatives bring a wedding dress and monks to this tree and perform a wedding ceremony. The spirit of the dead woman is married to a famous singer, poet or magician who died many years ago. Their families believe that he’ll be a good husband will look after each wife as if she were the only one.”

“Often, all we need is a wake-up call to realise the dangerous lifestyles we lead. The morbidity of death is the most common type of shock. When someone very close to us is taken away, it creates a well of many emotions. Of course sadness, but also regret for not making the most of our time together on earth. For some people, it can also bring guilt. While death is a natural part of life, it is easy to feel guilt for not stopping it.”

“It was a refuge by the sea, yet she had no interest in the moving tide or the solace it tendered. The haunting wail of her own cry was unfamiliar to her ear, rising from uncharted depths within her. Her heart felt broken and it could not be mended. Her legs felt weak and they could not be strengthened. She lay under the bedcovers and wept, and turned her cheek to rest on the pillow.”

“Sometimes, well into middle age, I composed letters to my father. In my dreams, I would meet him on a busy street, after many lost years, and he would receive me with the same old warmth. We would get into a little train together, or sit in a dark hall, watching a screen lit up with bright, moving images. 'Where were you all these years?' I would ask him, and he would ruffle my hair. My father hadn't died; he was a traveller in a different dimension, and he would turn up every now and then, just to see if I was all right.”

“Have you news of my boy Jack? ” Not this tide. “When d’you think that he’ll come back?” Not with this wind blowing, and this tide. “Has any one else had word of him?” Not this tide. For what is sunk will hardly swim, Not with this wind blowing, and this tide. “Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?” None this tide, Nor any tide, Except he did not shame his kind— Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide. Then hold your head up all the more, This tide, And every tide; Because he was the son you bore, And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!”

“She wrote his name on a piece of paper and lit it with a match. The letters curled as they turned dark and misshapen until she didn’t recognize them. They were figments of something that she had done in her past, lost into some other form of existence. Where did the letters go now? She tried to find traces within the ash of some resemblance of what used to be. She dug down, her fingers turning black and gray like the depths of her. He was gone. Gone. What was she left with but ashes and darkness once the light of the flame went out? The smell of smoke lingered like a memory of him. Was this the end or could she write a new word? Not a new name, not his name, but could she call a new word into existence? A new piece of HER; a new reason for her existence? Picking up the permanent marker, Amy placed it in her pocket for later. Ashes blow in the creek bed and blend with the stream, moving down like sand in an hourglass.”

“Sevdiğinin aniden ve beklenmedik şekilde ölümünden önceki son yirmi dört saati... Bir kitaba sığar mı ki? İki kitaba sığar mı? Sanmıyorum. Bir sel gibi aklıma doluşuyorlar. Bunlar aslında her gün, her zaman olup biten sıradan şeyler, aynı zamanda da önemsiz ve kolayca unutulabilir şeyler... Fakat ya şimdi? Şimdi, ne kadar da farklı. Ne kadar değerli, ne kadar önemli şeyler. Şimdi artık hepsi unutulmaz, hepsi hazin, hepsi kutsal, hepsi nasıl da itibarlı.”

“THE ONES WE LOSE The ones we lose Take more than themselves with them As they leave, they steal parts of you That you will never grow back Like a tree pruned too much Your blossoms are fruitless But you will heal No matter if it was peaceful, Senseless, Violent Show me your hands When you leave I want to see the parts of me that also disappear”

“THE BRIGHT ONES Even the bright ones lose their glow Even the royal lose their throne Even the dancer’s feet grow sore I can see your spirit elevated In a majestic leap toward the sky I can understand now Why we wish upon the stars at night Sometimes the ones we love wait quiet Sometimes we lose them in an instant Sometimes we don’t understand the reason I can see your mind reeling Pictures scattered across the floor It should comfort us These memories But right now I want to wage a war Even the bright ones lose their glow”

“The geese are all asleep. A few tip their heads out from under their wings as we approach. I open the cookie tin and a few more sway slowly over to us. It’s cold, and Silas has wrapped the green blanket around me so I feel like I have wings, too. I shake the tin and walk backward in a circle around them. The ground is warmer than the air and warmer still where the geese have been sleeping. The ashes fall out evenly onto the grass. They peck at the silver flakes, their beaks moving like machines, faster than the eyes can register. More join them, they don't fight, there is enough to go around. I hold the blanket open for Silas and he slips beside me and pulls it closed. "Is this weird?" "Yeah," he says. He puts his lips in my hair. "I love weird." They peck and naw for a long time. There's not much left when they are done. They putter around for a while on their wide rubber feet, their necks look made of fur not feathers. A few are trying to sleep, curtsying to the ground and burying their heads between the folded wings on their backs. I’ll miss them when they take flight. I won’t be there. Their fast excited chatter, their wings finally spread wide, their feet tucking in behind them. Wheels up. I’ll miss it. I’ll be in class or at my desk or in bed when they cut across the sky. "I want them to go right now." "I know," Silas says. "They'll go when they're ready." A book in the library said that some Canadian Geese may travel as far as Jalisco, Mexico. My mother will like that. The long, exhilirating trip, the foreign landing. But others, the book said, will stay where they are for the winter. Those geese are already home.”

“People reply in a lot of ways when they learn a loved one has died. “I’m sorry for your loss” is the most prevalent, followed by, “You must miss them.” But the truth is that they’re not sorry. And the hurt doesn’t lessen just because they apologize or even acknowledge the pain. And when they try to give advice—like the fact that time heals all, and you’ll feel better, just give it a while—they’re wrong. It will always hurt so fucking much, it just won’t hurt as often.”

“In Sri Lanka, nothing succeeds like death-it is the ultimate validation. The man you hate in life becomes instantly your idol in death. Any neglected artist can take heart; reviled whilst alive, he only has to wait patiently for death to become the national hero he has always yearned to be.”

“Ognuno ha il suo monumento di parole e di ricordi, ma qui non si sa scrivere e le parole non scritte son già scancellate e i ricordi muoiono con la morte di chi ricorda: la morte di un uomo, in queste parti del mondo dove non c'è tradizione scritta, non è soltanto la morte di quell'uomo, ma anche di tutti i parenti morti che lui nella sua mente conteneva. Lui viene a sua volta ricordato e contenuto nella mente di coloro che gli vogliono bene. Andare verso la morte è come camminare tenendosi per mano e formando una catena. L'umanità sarà giusta quando la catena stringerà tutti gli uomini, allora la storia avrà un senso positivo, cioè collettivo.”

“न होना तेरा कभी सबब नहीं था मेरी उदासी का आज क्यूँ फिर खल रहा है तेरा यूँ वक़्त से पहले गुज़र जाना ? वो आया और आकर चला गया तोड़ गया सब्र के मेरे सारे बाँध हाँ, वही था वह ! वही चिर-परिचित साया तेरा !”

“I cannot tell you how often I have counseled a grieving woman about a miscarriage or an abortion from years before. There were so many reasons why it was not practical or reasonable to have a child, so on a rational level there was often an understanding and acceptance. However, this did not relieve the pain and guilt of losing a child. In trance states we would often go looking for that soul. What a surprise for many when they discovered that this soul came back as a niece, nephew or even a younger child of their own.”

“When the raw pain is so unbearable and unbelievable, you may wonder if you can go on. But, you can, and will. And life can be good again—when you work at it." "It’s a conscious choice to decide to move through grief, mourn the loss of the person you love, and heal.”