There is no greater grief, than when a parent losses a child.

I tell you of loss, my child, so you will listen, slowly, and know that in life every emotion is fated to rear itself within your being. Don’t judge it proper or ugly. It’s simply...

The loss of a child exploits the emotions of each individual it encounters.

An anchor should be someone who is personally open and willing to communicate.

Allow yourself to be an anchor and anchored by others.

The loss of my child broke my spirit.

Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream.

This time I read the title of the painting: Girl Interrupted at Her Music. Interrupted at her music: as my life had been, interrupted in the music of being seventeen, as her life had been,...

Live for your country, die to yourself; live for yourself, die to your country.

It reminds me that no embrace will ever feel the same again, because no one will ever be like her again, because she’s gone. She’s gone, and crying feels so useless, so stupid, but it’s...

Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.

Loss has no friend, no allies, no benefit to the human spirit.

The process of grief and loss is as unique as your personal DNA (deoxyribonucleic acid); no two individuals will have the same experiences or relationship to grief.

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.

You may say suicide is a loss of control and cowardly. Foolish as it may sound, I am prepared to argue.

This was how to help a family who has just lost their child. Wash the clothes, make soup. Don’t ask them what they need, bring them what they need. Keep them warm. Listen to them...

At the temple there is a poem called “Loss” carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

Oh, the need to lay my tongue in the rivers of wine,To taste of her lustHow a star feels as it bursts infinitely into diamondsThe earth cries, but it is only the heavens that weep...

If they had given in to passion, throwing caution to the wind,they would have lost everything.

He remembered Tessa weeping in his arms in Paris, and thinking that he had never known the loss she felt, because he had never loved like she had, and that he was afraid that someday...

somebody.” I guess you could say I was slightly disappointed at the outcome.

If those we love visit us when we dream, those who torment us almost always visit us when we’re still awake.

Women can go mad with insomnia.The sleep-deprived roam houses that have lost their familiarity. With tea mugs in hand, we wander rooms, looking on shelves for something we will recognize: a book title, a photograph,...

Sound an alarm! Advertising, not deals, builds brands.

I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not suicidal if that’s what’s freaking you out. I’m not fucked up in the head. I’m not deranged. I’m not suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I’m just a...

You could lose the ones you loved in the blink of an eye—and he was willing to bet, when it happened, you weren’t thinking about all the reasons that could have kept you apart. You...

The winners of life’s game always set and have goals in focus that they score to fulfill their purposes of existence and making the planet earth to celebrate joy; the losers make life bitter for...

I am overachieving at aimlessness, I am a type-A, alpha-girl lollygagger, the leader of a gang of heartbroken kids, running wild across this lonely strip of amusements, each of us smarting from the betrayals of...

I should probably get a stone. A stone would be good. A stone would save me, would salvage all the damage we had already done, all the things we had given up or lost.

She was brave from excess of grief

Nothing helped until the day she took a tablet and pencil into the basement and moved the event out of her and onto paper, where it was reshaped into a kind of simple equation: loss...

My sister will die over and over again for the rest of my life. Grief is forever. It doesn’t go away; it becomes a part of you, step for step, breath for breath. I will...

At times, we are the bridge that allows another to re-enter the world after a loss. Don’t mistake it for more or its beauty may be lost.

That is, Jack thought, the way of life. The horror changes us, because we can never forget. Cursed with memory. It starts when we’re old enough to know what death is and realize that sooner...

Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.

Happiness and beauty are the worst things you can have in a life, because you never forget them. They go on and on ambushing you, presumably until you die.

You can’t truly heal from a loss until you allow yourself to really FEEL the loss.

Psychoanalysis is often about turning our ghosts into ancestors, even for patients who have not lost loved ones to death. We are often haunted by important relationships from the past that influence us unconsciously in...

Wanna know what a bullet feels like, Warren? A real one? It’s not like in the comics…I think you need to. Feel it…It’s not going to make a neat little hole. First – it’ll obliterate...

I am part of what she thinks is her illness, a symptom of which she thinks she has been cured. She, on the other hand, is what I was looking for.

Good had defeated evil, people proclaimed, a justification for atrocities best left forgotten. They would cling to this oversimplified truth while trading pats on the back and placing flowers on graves.

I just looked at her, feeling utterly empty. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to her. My life is in that bed. Please let me stay.

I have no definable history before I was abandoned and taken in by the orphanage in Hong Kong. I truly am a blank sheet. I have been disconnected from my ancestors. I don’t know who...

A funeral is no place for secrets.

The Greatest loss in life is the loss of a mother: The second greatest, the loss of Self.

…losing a friend is like losing a language, and I miss the one we spoke together.

[That wall] might be breached sometime in the future, but for now the only real conversation between them was the roots that had already grown low and deep, under the wall, where they could not...

You’ve been wondering lately when the moment is that somebody is truly lost to you.

The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.

Niggard prefers mistake rather than loss.