Arthur Golden Quotes

When my young men began the killing, my heart was hurt.

I lost my husband, and it's a horrific thing to live through.

I know what it's like to lose.

The cries of the dead are terrible indeed; you should try not to hear them.

Remembering is only a new form of suffering.

You will love again, people say. Give it time. Me with time running out. Day after day of the everyday. What they call real life, made of eighth-inch gauge. Newness strutting around as if it were significant. Irony, neatness and rhyme pretending to be poetry. I want to go back to that time after Michiko's death when I cried every day among the trees. To the real. To the magnitude of pain, of being that much alive.

When someone dies, it is like when your house burns down; it isn't for years that you realize the full extent of your loss.

Writers write about what obsesses them. You draw those cards. I lost my mother when I was 14. My daughter died at the age of 6. I lost my faith as a Catholic. When I'm writing, the darkness is always there. I go where the pain is.

She died on a windy gray day in March when the sky was full of darting crows and the world lay prostrate and defeated after winter. Peter Lake was at her side and it ruined him forever. It broke him as he had not ever imagined he could have been broken. He would never again be young, or able to remember what it was like to be young. What he had once taken to be pleasures would appear to him in his defeat as hideous and deserved punishments for reckless vanity.

This is the Hour of Lead- Remembered, if outlived, As freezing persons, recollect the Snow- First-Chill-then Stupor- then the letting go---

You were unsure which pain is worse -- the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will.

I try not to remember the life that I didn’t want to lose but lost and have to remember

I needed, I decided, to really know her, because I needed more to remember. Before I could begin the shameful process of forgetting the how and the why of her living and dying, I needed to learn it: How. Why. When. Where. What.

Death is not the worst sorrow.

I remember the day my mother died, and it's still hard to talk about it. I just blocked it out.

I was slapped down to the ground when my son Wade died in 1996, in April of 1996.

I think that people always say when people pass away that time heals all wounds. And that's probably the biggest lie. It's not true. I think we all need to remember that it is always still tough, and it's like losing a piece of your heart.

Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death.

I just didn't want to admit that he was dead.

It was very hard for all of us. It's still very hard. The anniversary of his death just passed, and every single one of his friends, still, after all these years... it's unbelievable.

The fact that I lost my son permeates my being.

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

My father died in my arms. That's tumult. That's everything exploding.

I don't think you could get anything worse than losing a child. I think if my child died, I would prefer it if I were dead.

Losing a child is probably the singular most horrible thing.