"loss"タグの名言

I am the broken sky, you are my rain.

although my body was yours for the night  my heart never belonged to you.

I lost a few who are real special. I lost someone I couldn’t even say good bye to. So know this and know this well — we are here to experience life not “own” anyone.

Sometimes we become strangers with those who knew our soul, we're forced to reinvent ourselves and create a whole new world.

In our loss and fear we craved the acts of religion, the ceremonies that allow us to admit our helplessness, our dependence on the great forces we do not understand.

I never used to realize it, I guess. I try and play it along and just not make trouble for people. Probably I never would have had any trouble at all if I hadn't run into Brett when they shipped me to England. I suppose she only wanted what she couldn't have. Well, people were that way. To hell with people. The Catholic Church had an awfully good way of handling all that. Good advice, anyway. Not to think about it. Oh, it was swell advice. Try and take it sometime. Try and take it.

Sometimes it made her want to put her fist through glass; other times, it made her cry a river.

I know it's tough losing someone you respected, but it will get better. Don't let that affect you from reaching your goals... don't get side-stepped by a tragedy like this. I know it's sad. Cry if you must. Just stay focused, and don't let your grief break you and derail you from your desired path.

Spend the days that are important to you with those who are important to you. For time is fleeting and death sometimes comes unannounced on swift wings.

We cannot have, but can lose, everything.

Loss, at first it naturally brings the pain, the restlessness, the feeling of being trapped; we struggle, try harder, but our mind stops thinking about the reason of loss, it just signals our body to go for the win, we keep running, mentally exhausted, physically drained but still no win; we try harder & harder but keep doing similar work which earlier decorated us with success, eventually it becomes a ritual triggering the euphoria of a absolute surrender, we get used to the loss. Every day the ritual is followed, but we get used to the loss like we get used to the unanswered prayers, we stop thinking about the win, although bad feelings grip us from time to time but it passes very quickly, And just as losers justify their loss, we become addicted to a thought process which only blames other people and situation for our loss.

A failure is someone who gets used to the failure, by allowing themselves trapped in a vicious cycle of failure and forgetting. Successful people never forget the pain associated with failure. They work towards not getting hurt again.

The habit of losing small battles gives way to losing the big ones. Failure can be permanent only when we fail to notice the regularity at which we are failing. Don't give-up. No opposition is stronger than your courage, make efforts, even if going down is inevitable better go down as heroes & not as sitting ducks.

If we are unwilling to crash, we can never soar.

We spend a huge chunk of our lives worrying about whether or not we will eventually get the person and/or the things we need or want. Once we get them, we spend the rest of our lives worrying about whether or not we will eventually lose them.

I need to figure out the secret. I need to work out how to keep things flying back to me instead of always flying away.

So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that's stolen from us - that's snatched right out of our hands - even if we are left completely changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to the end of our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of insurmountable emptiness... Maybe, in some distant place, everything is already, quietly, lost. Or at least there exists a silent place where everything can disappear, melting together in a single, overlapping figure. And as we live our lives we discover - drawing toward us the thin threads attached to each - what has been lost. I closed my eyes and tried to bring to mind as many beautiful lost things as I could. Drawing them closer, holding on to them. Knowing all the while that their lives are fleeting.

...he prayed fundamentally as a gesture of love for what had gone and would go and could be loved in no other way. When he prayed he touched his parents, who could not otherwise be touched, and he touched a feeling that we are all children who lose our parents, all of us, every man and woman and boy and girl, and we too will all be lost by those who come after us and love us, and this loss unites humanity, unites every human being, the temporary nature of our being-ness, and our shared sorrow, the heartache we each carry and yet too often refuse to acknowledge in one another, and out of this Saeed felt it might be possible, in the face of death, to believe in humanity's potential for building a better world, so he prayed as a lament, as a consolation, and as a hope....

And the terrible thing, the terrible thing is, but the good thing too, the saving grace, is that if something happened to one of us--excuse me for saying this--but if something happened to one of us tomorrow, I think the other one, the other person, would grieve for a while, you know, but then the surviving party would go out and love again, have someone else soon enough. All this, all of this love we're talking about, it would just be a memory. Maybe not even a memory.

Sometimes it's exhausting for me to simply walk into the house. I try and calm myself, remember that I've lived alone before. Sleeping by myself didn't kill me then and will not kill me now. But this what loss has taught me of love. Our house isn't simply empty, our home has been emptied. Love makes a place in your life, it makes a place for itself in your bed. Invisibly, it makes a place in your body, rerouting all your blood vessels, throbbing right alongside your heart. When it's gone, nothing is whole again.