More tears rushed from the depths of her tortured soul. ... The losses piled up. — Karen Kingsbury, The Chance
More tears rushed from the depths of her tortured soul. ... The losses piled up. — Karen Kingsbury, The Chance
More tears rushed from the depths of her tortured soul. ... The losses piled up. — Karen Kingsbury, The Chance
More tears rushed from the depths of her tortured soul. ... The losses piled up. — Karen Kingsbury, The Chance
More tears rushed from the depths of her tortured soul. ... The losses piled up. — Karen Kingsbury, The Chance
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More tears rushed from the depths of her tortured soul. ... The losses piled up.

— Karen Kingsbury, The Chance
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loss regret

More “Loss” Quotes

...because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything — Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Slaughterhouse-Five
... he wasn't crying for the woman who had died. He was crying for the woman she had been. — Sharon Sala, Going Once
I am very familiar with the sound of loss. — Amy L. Boukair, Indigo
I’m so sorry,” he said, because after Pamela died, he promised himself that if anyone told him the smallest, saddest sto — Elizabeth McCracken, Thunderstruck & Other Stories
The breeze around them seemed to drop – dead – like a door to the best things had just closed. — Carla H. Krueger, Sleeping with the Sun
Though loss did not pass from one person to another liker a baton; it just formed a bigger and bigger pool of carriers. — Aimee Bender, The Color Master: Stories
My mind couldn't fit itself around the shape of his absence. — Lia Mills, Fallen
...and be emptied of gravity and surrounding by the rouge wave of an emotion she could not name. — Carol Cassella, Gemini
He couldn’t count them all. Nobody taught him how to count past ten. Such losses were beyond his comprehension. — J.U. Scribe, Before the Legend
Memories of that which we have lost are curious things - weeks, months, even years may pass without recollection of them — Alexander McCall Smith
From loss breeds new life — Bernadette Marie, Penelope
At morn we buried Melanippus; as the sun set the maiden Basilo died by her own hand, as she could not endure to lay her — allimachus and Lycophron CXLII