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...

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.

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.

My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today.

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,...

The loss of my child broke my spirit.

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...

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

I’m convinced that the world, more than ever, needs the music only you can make. And if it takes extra courage to keep playing in spite of your loss, many will applaud the effort. And...

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.

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

I have cried over myself a hundred times this summer, she thought, I have wept over my big feet and my skinny legs and my nose, I have even cried over my stupid shoes, and...

One of the greatest tragedies in life is to lose your own sense of self and accept the version of you that is expected by everyone else.

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.

It was “Boom Boom” Dupont who had ripped Kit out of the Humvee after the IED went off, the IED that turned the entire undercarriage of his truck into a fiery wall that consumed the...

It seemed as if the longer she lived, the more was taken from her. Not gradually, as old age fell into the inevitable, but lobbed off in great chunks, the healthy branches sacrificed along with...

You don’t just get over it. And it doesn’t make any difference if you’re supposedly a grown-up. It never goes away.

My life’s an open book. Some of the pages are a little ripped, but it’s open.

This you have to understand. There’s only one way to hurt a man who’s lost everything. Give him back something broken.

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?

Fear manifested itself as a physical presence that seemed to dominate the public sphere. Time almost stopped. Even without confirmation I could sense that something had gone terribly wrong.

Only the debris of wreckage, and not much of that, was left behind by the sharks who fed on tragedy: the fishermen, too, mourned the death of a living child.

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.