"loss"タグの名言

one of the best and the most painful things about time traveling has been the opportunity to see my mother alive.

I sit quietly and think about my mom. It's funny how memory erodes, If all I had to work from were my childhood memories, my knowledge of my mother would be faded and soft, with a few sharp memories standing out.

Nos-tal-gic,’ Akira said, as though it were a word he had been struggling to find. Then he said a word in Japanese, perhaps the Japanese for ‘nostalgic.’ ‘Nos-tal-gic. It is good to be nos-tal-gic. Very important.’ ‘Really, old fellow?’ ‘Important. Very important. Nostalgic. When we nostalgic, we remember. A world better than this world we discover when we grow. We remember and wish good world come back again. So very important. Just now, I had dream. I was boy. Mother, Father, close to me. in our house.’ He fell silent and continued to gaze across the rubble. ‘Akira,’ I said, sensing that the longer this talk went on, the greater was some danger I did not wish fully to articulate. ‘We should move on. We have much to do.

I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room

she slammed the door and was gone. I looked at the closed door and at the doorknob and strangely I didn't feel alone.

We are all waiting for someone to come back from the past bringing a lost happiness.

A loss of any kind is horrible. Not because it takes away, but because it makes you believe- in newspapers, in tomatoes, in empty whiskey bottles.

A lesson for all of us is that for every loss, there is victory, for every sadness, there is joy, and when you think you’ve lost everything, there is hope.

Scars prove that you're still here. That you can move on. Maybe missing a chunk of yourself, but here, goddamn it, surviving.

I know now, just quite how My life and love might still go on In your heart, in your mind I'll stay with you for all of time.

But that's just it; I can either focus on what I have lost, or what I have gained, and I choose the latter.

Grief is an amputation, but hope is incurable haemophilia: you bleed and bleed and bleed. Like Schrödinger’s cat inside a box you can never ever open.

The days passed in a dream. I pictured our reunion again and again, played it out in my mind over and over until I’d almost worn a groove in my thoughts, so deep that it seemed the only thing I could think of was our reunion. Anticipation is a gift. Perhaps there is none greater. Anticipation is born of hope. Indeed it is hope’s finest expression. In hope’s loss, however, is the greatest despair.

She felt the depth of her losses before they were realized, and she wondered, Is there still hope? Did she even dare hold on to such a tenuous thing as hope?

I must reluctantly observe that two causes, the abbreviation of time, and the failure of hope, will always tinge with a browner shade the evening of life.

Sometimes we create such powerful illusions, so that we do not get lost in the darkness.

Oh! it is hard to take to heart the lesson that such deaths will teach, but let no man reject it, for it is one that all must learn, and is a mighty, universal Truth. When Death strikes down the innocent and young, for every fragile form from which he lets the panting spirit free, a hundred virtues rise, in shapes of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world, and bless it. Of every tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, some good is born, some gentler nature comes.

What he is really saying is this: this is how the story must end; our hearts can bear no more loss.

Death of a beloved leaves a deep hole in our heart.

Sometimes the lowest and darkest moments of our lives are the best moments to reckon, because they humbled us, squashed us, and forced us to go beyond our limits, not only to hope, but to be creative in finding value and meaning even in unbearable pain, loss, illness, or rejection. — Danny Castillones Sillada, an existentialist and surrealist painter