Charles Lamb Quotes

Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,-not dead, but gone before,- He gathers round him.

Everyone I have lost in the closing of a door the click of the lock is not forgotten, they do not die but remain within the soft edges of the earth, the ash of house fires and cancer in sin and forgiveness huddled under old blankets dreaming their way into my hands, my heart closing tight like fists. - "Indian Boy Love Song #1

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

To those who are here, those who are gone, and those who are lost.

Is not absence death to those who love?

The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear- Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year.

I drug your ghost across the country, and we plotted out my death. Every city and memory we whispered "Here is where you rest." Well I was determined in Chicago but I dug my teeth into my knees And I settled for a telephone, sang into your machine: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more.

Why don't I watch the ocean?My lover's gone.No earthly ships will ever bring him home againbring him home again.

Grief is only the memory of widowed affection. The more intense the delight in the presence of the object, the more poignant must be the impression of the absence.

Cold inthe earthand the deepsnow piled abovethee, Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last byTime's all-serving wave?

And all the winds go sighing, for sweet things dying.

Our past is who we are, and death is one of our experiences. I lost my husband a long time ago, but it's always yesterday.

Some of us only meet in the most fleeting moments; some of us never meet, but still hear about one another and therefore cherish what we know from what we've heard, and mourn the loss, even though we're spared what the close-loved ones must endure - the ongoing pain of an empty place in the heart for the rest of life.

A friend who dies, it's something of you who dies.

When my father died, I was living in England. It was very traumatic that he died when I was away.

I hate death; it takes people away from you. You're left feeling rudderless.

It's very inconvenient because every time I finish, let's say, a chapter of a book, I think I'm going to ring Richard and then realize: Oh, Christ, I've buried him. I buried him last year.

I think whenever you lose somebody close to you, there's always a part of you that wishes you could have done something differently.

I miss all of my old friends who have passed away. Sometimes you just don't understand why they were taken so soon. I loved and miss Johnny Cash. I miss my old buddy Johnny Paycheck, who happens to be buried in an area of the cemetery that I bought for my family.

And soon, too soon, we part with pain, To sail o'er silent seas again.

We live in grief for having left the womb, for having left the teat, then school, then home. In my case, it was leaving marriages, and the death of my wife.

Too many people I've loved dearly have left this earth. And some I've lost are still here breathing the same air. That grief can be comparable if not worse in its consumption.

I can't bear it that Douglas isn't still here.

There are moments when the grief comes bubbling up. The first time I saw Chris's chair empty, that was really hard. And it was hard when I started folding up some of his sweaters that I so imagine him wearing.