649 Loss Quotes

If they had said that the sun or the moon had gone out of the heavens, it could not have struck me with the idea of a more awful and dreary blank in creation than the words: 'Byron is dead!'

His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away.

I have always had plenty of friends, and now at age sixty, I face four walls as a common prisoner.

Holy shadows of the dead, I'm not to blame for your cruel and bitter fate, but the accursed rivalry which brought sister nations and brother people, to fight one another. I do not feel happy for this victory of mine. On the contrary, I would be glad, brothers, if I had all of you standing here next to me, since we are united by the same language, the same blood and the same visions.

Now that I'm out and I'm shouting in doorways Freed from a love more like murder I should be singing but in liberation Feel like a ship with no rudder.

So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.

My wind is turned to bitter north, That was so soft a south before; My sky, that shone so sunny bright, With foggy gloom is clouded o'er My gay green leaves are yellow-black, Upon the dank autumnal floor; For love, departed once, comes back No more again, no more.

Dance on, dance on, we see, we see Youth goes, alack, and with it glee, A boy the old man ne'er can be; Maternal thirty scarce can find The sweet sixteen long left behind.

Victory is for them, not for us. We have not made profit out of our country's misfortune. Victory does not bring us luck.

If you don't win, it's not a great tragedy - the worst that happens is that you lose a game.

If the angels are unkind or the season is dark Or if in the end Love just falls apart Well then here's to our destruction Baby let me be your soul driver.

What we conceal Is always more than what we dare confide. Think of the letters that we write our dead.

The majority of my symphonies are tombstones.

When you can't have anything else, you can have virtue.

The unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise, is gone!

The flowers left thick at nightfall in the wood This Eastertide call into mind the men, Now far from home, who, with their sweethearts, should Have gathered them and will do never again.

The bell strikes one. We take no note of time But from its loss.

If I am what I have and if I lose what I have who then am I?

The only way to prove that you're a good sport is to lose.

They say that each generation inherits from those that have gone before; if this were so there would be no limit to man's improvements or to his power of reaching perfection. But he is very far from receiving intact that storehouse of knowledge which the centuries have piled up before him; he may perfect some inventions, but in others, he lags behind the originators, and a great many inventions have been lost entirely. What he gains on the one hand, he loses on the other.

Religions get lost as people do.

For of fortunes sharp adversitee The worst kynde of infortune is this, A man to han ben in prosperitee, And it remembren, whan it passed is.

Before the flowers of friendship faded friendship faded.

War is never fatal but always lost. Always lost.

I left Cuba when I was two years old. They took away my country, they stole the most intimate thing a human being can have. How could I forget that Fidel Castro was the person who did me so much harm?

You see, I have no real complaints of how you've left your past behind I guess what gets me worried is you've erased him from your mind.

So far as the personal side is concerned, the victory was to him who lost and the defeat to him who won. I can say that never in the last fifteen years have I had the peace of mind that I have since the election. I have almost a feeling of elation.

You will expect me to discuss the late election. Well, as nearly as I can learn, we did not have enough votes on our side.

It's like having a pet dog for a long time. You get attached to it, and when it dies you miss it.

The time I burned my guitar it was like a sacrifice. You sacrifice the things you love. I love my guitar.

There are times in politics when you must be on the right side and lose.

The techniques of opening conversation are universal. I knew long ago and rediscovered that the best way to attract attention, help, and conversation is to be lost. A man who seeing his mother starving to death on a path kicks her in the stomach to clear the way, will cheerfully devote several hours of his time giving wrong directions to a total stranger who claims to be lost.

I thought for a minute there I saw her whipped. Maybe I did. But I see now that it don't make any difference.... To beat her you don't have to whip her two out of three or three out of five, but every time you meet. As soon as you let down your guard, as soon as you lose once, she's won for good. And eventually we all got to lose. Nobody can help that.

That feeling of terrible emptiness when I touched him was like going into a house that you thought would be full of people you loved, only to find it empty, and even the furniture taken. You walk from room to room, hearing your footsteps echo on the naked floors. Your voice bounces back from the empty walls, where the lines of beloved photos still show like the line around a body at a crime scene. He was gone.

'This one is for Joey, Johnny and Dee Dee Ramone, wherever they may be.' - Lemmy's words before Motorhead play the song 'R.A.M.O.N.E.S.'.

Three days later the little princess was buried, and Prince Andrew went up the steps to where the coffin stood, to give her the farewell kiss. And there in the coffin was the same face, though with closed eyes. 'Ah, what have you done to me?' it still seemed to say, and Prince Andrew felt that something gave way in his soul and that he was guilty of a sin he could neither remedy nor forget.

I charm in vain; for never again, All keenly as my glance I bend, Will Memory, goddess coy, Embody for my joy Departed days, nor let me gaze On thee, my fairy friend!

I have no right to risk. No, that's not quite correct. I have no right to failure. And I don't trust myself anymore. I don't know what's happened to my edge. Lost it in a strange land.

Suddenly I knew that you'd have to go Your world was not mine, your eyes told me so Yet it was there I felt the crossroads of time And I wondered why.

As you turned to go I heard you call my name, You were like a bird in a cage spreading its wings to fly 'The old ways are lost,' you sang as you flew And I wondered why.

Amy: 'One periwink--' Advertisment. 'One periwinkle sash belonging to Mr. N. Winkle, has been 'abscondated' from the washline. Which, gentlemen, desires any reports leading to its recovery.'

This manslaughter must be stopped. You are losing; if you persist, it will only result in greater bloodshed.

A divorce is like an amputation; you survive, but there's less of you.

If our imagination is challenged to picture what Margaret Fuller would have been like had she remained in Boston, it is positively staggered at trying to conceive what would have been the career of the Marchioness Ossoli in America. The wreck of the Elizabeth deprived the cultural history of this country of what would surely have been an exciting chapter.

La memoire de la plupart des hommes est un cimetiere abandonne, ou gisent sans honneurs des morts qu'ils ont cesse de cherir.

Understand this, tell others: in my dream vultures chase me into my burning house. There, they pick out the brains of my family, dismember them, devour. I emerge from my home and I am burning, skin falling away like a snake as the structure crumbles into a black skeleton. I cannot fight off the vultures. A young man or woman emerges from the ashes. He/she doesn't save me, because he/she is holding my cracked and swollen heart in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. I can read it. It discusses and compares in great detail the differences between me and the vultures. He wraps my heart in the paper and tosses it to the ground. Can you see?

Joe doesn't think any man can love me except him. He's my best friend in the world. I don't want to lose him. I don't want to lose Jose (Bolanos). Oh, help me, somebody...

Wordsworth has gone from us - and ye, Ah, may ye feel his voice as we! He too upon a wintry clime Had fallen - on this iron time Of doubts, disputes, distractions, fears.

Radar Officer (Michael Winslow): 'I've lost the sweeps, the bleeps, and the creeps!' [Explains via vocal sound effects] Dark Helmet [aside to Colonel Sandurz]: 'That's not all he's lost.'

In there. The words hit me hard. In there was my best friend lying on the floor dead. The body. Now I could call it that. Yesterday it was Jack Williams, the guy that shared the same mud bed with me through two years of warfare in the stinking slime of the jungle. Jack, the guy who said he'd give his right arm for a friend and did when he stopped a bastard of a Jap from slitting me in two. He caught the bayonet in the biceps and they amputated his arm.

And silence their mourning With vows of returning But never intending to visit them more. No never, no never, intending to visit them more.

Let us weep in our darkness, but weep not for him! Not for him who, departing, leaves millions in tears! Not for him who has died full of honor and years! Not for him who ascended Fame's ladder so high: From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky.

'Shelter me from the powder and the finger / Cover me with the thought that pulled the trigger.' - 'Powderfinger'

You remember me. You remember me how I was. Tell me how I was. I used to have a brain. I used to be somebody. What happened to me? What happened to me?

Even after the only person whose opinion I cared about left on a boat for America, I continued to fill pages with her name.

You'll keep looking around for something, something you were looking for, but you can't find it, and you can't remember what it was.

Is it possible she had lost her soul inside his?

She probably knew this, intellectually. But like all other human beings, she did not always act accordingly to her understanding. She had lost too many of the people that she loved; when she felt one more of them slipping away, her response was emotional, not intellectual. [he] had come into her life as a healer, a protector. It was his job to keep her from being afraid, and now she was afraid, and she was angry at him for having failed her.

There's no meaning of life if I've lost you.

You ready to command a fleet? I don't know. It depends on whether they want to win. Here's the thing, Bean. Soldiers don't like to lose And that is why losing is a much more powerful teacher than winning.

There's nothing between them anymore. I could see it fall, the last tie of love or even of concern. If he died tonight, she would be content. to Luet this seemed the most terrible of tragedies. Once these two had been joined together in love, or something like love... And yet the last tie between them was broken now. All lost, all gone. Nothing lasted, nothing.

Some memories don't fade, some physical memories are forever. The feel of your fathers hand, the sound of your mothers voice. Only, father's hand was smaller now. No, Ivan's was larger, but to him, it was his father who had shrunk, who no longer had the power of the giant, of the god, to enfold him and keep him safe.

Rage at the death of his daughter and all the things that had gone wrong and the people who had screwed up. He needed to kill somebody, to tear them apart, only there wasn't anybody to kill.

They were gnawed within by the grief of knowing that this greatest gift of all gifts was forever out of their reach.

So there he was with... No career, and, to put it candidly, no life. It was as if he had been running a long, long race and finally realized that there was nobody else in it with him, he had crossed the finish line years ago and didn't notice it because not a soul was there to cheek for him and clap him on the back and say 'Good run... Good run!' Or come to think of it, maybe they were there, only [he] himself didn't care what they thought of him and so he sloughed off their praise and their friendship because he was waiting for the one voice he'd never hear again.

He felt sick with the sense of loss. What have I been doing all these years? How stupid can a reasonably bright guy be?

He felt something touch him, warm and deep, like a candle burst inside his heart. Like a soft breath of joy that swept through him, and he looked up to ask her what it was she did to him, how she could give him such a gift of life. But she was gone.

Why she had to go I don't know, she wouldn't say I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday.

I got a call from my broker. The broker informed me I'm broke. I was dealing my last hand of poker. My cards were useless as smoke.

The body is placed under the earth, and after a certain period there remains no vestige even of its form. This is that contemplation of inexhaustible melancholy, whose shadow eclipses the brightness of the world. The common observer is struck with dejection of the spectacle. He contends in vain against the persuasion of the grave, that the dead indeed cease to be. The corpse at his feet is prophetic of his own destiny. Those who have preceded him, and whose voice was delightful to his ear; whose touch met his like sweet and subtle fire: whose aspect spread a visionary light upon his path - these he cannot meet again.

I weep for Adonais - he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!

Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise! She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.

The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.

'Cause I'm gonna lose you. Yes, I'm gonna lose you. If I'm gonna lose you. I'll lose you now for good. ~ 'Lose You'

And you think you know that they'll always be there. You never had the time. I want you to be fine. ~ 'Burrito'

Tragically I was an only twin.

After years of entrenched drug abuse, you have a mourning period. I know it's a bit sad, but I'm in mourning. I'm in mourning for an armful.

I grieve for you You leave me So hard to move on Still loving what's gone They say life carries on Carries on and on and on and on...

Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja - The man is dead.

I was taught to fight, taught to win I never thought I could fail no fight left or so it seems I am a man whose dreams have all deserted I've changed my face, I've changed my name but no one wants you when you lose.

On a peine a hair ce qu'on a bien aime, Et le feu mal eteint est bientot rallume.

Io ho conquistato all'Italia un impero e Mussolini l'ha buttato via.

Du im Voraus verlorne Geliebte, Nimmergekommene, nicht wei? ich, welche Tone dir lieb sind. Nicht mehr versuch ich, dich, wenn das Kommende wogt, zu erkennen.

For every thing you have missed, you have gained something else; and for every thing you gain, you lose something.

I wiped away the weeds and foam, And fetched my sea-born treasures home; But the poor, unsightly, noisome things Had left their beauty on the shore With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar.

He was my brother and I loved him a great deal. It was just an awful, awful mistake. We fed off each other and learned a lot from each other.

But, oh! fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early.

For a' that, and a' that An' twice as muckle 's a' that, I've lost but ane, I've twa behin', I've wife eneugh for a' that.

Our brave young men are dying in the swamps of Southeast Asia. Which of them might have written a poem? Which of them might have cured cancer? Which of them might have played in a World Series or given us the gift of laughter from the stage or helped build a bridge or a university? Which of them would have taught a child to read? It is our responsibility to let these men live....It is indecent if they die because of the empty vanity of their country. (Vietnam War speech, Calif, 3-24-68)

That night when he went back to his hotel, he wept for his dead children and all the other castrated boys, for his own lost youth, for those who were young no longer and those who died young, for those who fought for Salvador Allende and those who were too scared to fight.

The extraordinary patience of things! This beautiful place defaced with a crop of suburban houses - How beautiful when we first beheld it, Unbroken field of poppy and lupin walled with clean cliffs; No intrusion but two or three horses pasturing...