I wish I could take my brain and put it inside your head,” Winslow said. “Just for a moment. Then you’d know what all I can’t find how to say.
Alan HeathcockStichwörter: loss grief grieving emotional-pain emotional-wounds inarticulate
If those we love visit us when we dream, those who torment us almost always visit us when we're still awake.
Alyson RichmanStichwörter: love loss dreams torment
God never said that we wouldn’t have unfair situations, that we wouldn’t experience loss. But He promised if we would stay in faith, He would restore everything that was stolen.
Joel OsteenStichwörter: inspirational loss faith
I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for the people I had met and the people I had lost.
Shannon A. ThompsonStichwörter: loss becoming gain
I thought of all the hardships and people that I had lost in the past few days alone, but, most of all, I thought of how I didn't regret any of it.
Shannon A. ThompsonStichwörter: loss reflection life-lessons pride regret hardships
The dead sit at our tables long after they have gone.
Mitch AlbomStichwörter: loss death spirit lost-loved-one
You can't just make me different and then leave
John GreenStichwörter: love lost loss death dying drunk driving alaska
The burnt-off connectors and shadows where Ravan once filled my spaces— those, I think, are the sensations of grief.
Catherynne M. ValenteStichwörter: loss emotion grief empty-spaces
...being Lulu, it made me realize that all my life I've been living in a small, square room, with no windows and no doors. And I was fine. I was happy, even. I thought. Then someone came along and showed me there was a door in the room. One that I'd never even seen before. Then he opened it for me. Held my hand as I walked through it. And for one perfect day, I was on the other side. I was somewhere else. Someone else. And then he was gone, and I was thrown back into my little room. And now, no matter what I do, I can't seem to find that door.
Gayle FormanStichwörter: loss sadness depression heartbreak
Mother (fragment)
...You asked me if I would be sad when it happened
and I am sad. But the iris I moved from your house
now hold in the dusty dry fists of their roots
green knives and forks as if waiting for dinner,
as if spring were a feast. I thank you for that.
Were it not for the way you taught me to look
at the world, to see the life at play in everything,
I would have to be lonely forever.
Stichwörter: poetry nature loss mothers-and-daughters
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