Loss taught me. Loss taught me that death comes to both the old and the young.

Loss alone is but the wounding of a heart; it is memory that makes it our ruin.

Enjoy your life, the time you have now, because time cannot be found only lost.

Price of peace could only be valued by people who had suffered loss in the war.

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

She let him go once. Every day demands that she release him over and over again.

More tears rushed from the depths of her tortured soul. ... The losses piled up.

Loss; is the returning of what never actually belonged to us in the first place.

Like that first kiss we will never have. Like the last kiss we will always have.

The real hell of this," he told her, "is that you're going to get through it.

How easy it was to lose everything you had always thought you'd have forever.

Sometimes it takes great suffering to pierce the soul and open it up to greatness

...you're either gonna spend your life fucking pussy, or taking it to church.

It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

Was there a language of loss? Did everyone who suffered speak a different dialect?