Shirley Jackson Quotes

Sadly, my father died before I graduated, so he didn't see any of the success at all.

What shaped me the most would probably be when my dad passed away. For the rest of my life, I'll kind of feel like he's gonna come home.

I wish my father had lived longer. He died when I was 18.

I ought to rejoice in the fact that our principal rival has died, but I don't.

I lost my dad way too early and it was agonisingly awful. I missed him so much and I hated knowing that I could never again pick up the phone to tell him about my day.

My dad died when I was 23. His death was sudden and shocking - the result of a car crash - and I never got to say goodbye.

My father died prematurely at the age of 52 when I was 24, and it is a recurring regret that he never lived to see me succeed beyond university and drama.

If there was a way to bring someone back, would you do it, no matter what the consequences might be? I know that for me, my logical mind says, 'Of course not!' But the truth is, when you lose someone who is so close to you, it's as if they are a part of you; there's always one more thing to say, one more moment you wish you'd had.

My father died five days before I returned to New York. He was only fifty-three years old. My parents and my father's doctor had all decided it was wiser for me to go to South America than to stay home and see Papa waste away. For a long time, I felt an enormous sense of guilt about having left my father's side when he was so sick.

Do I miss him? Of course I do. Every day. His death was devastating, he was just 51. But you know, in my stand-up my Dad will always be alive. He's so much part of my act.

My dad was a pool-equipment salesman. He died when I was 12. Heart attack on a golf course.

You never say and do the things you wish you had said or done when someone close to you may not be around in awhile. Closure is impossible; that's the heart of the grief you will carry with you for the rest of your life.

I was only ever briefly angry with my dad for leaving us. It happened shortly after his death, when things were at their darkest and the grief in me was raw and at its worst.

When I was nine, my father passed away. It's one thing when you're a kid and your father wasn't there for you. My father was there, and then he was taken away.

My last conversation with my father was an argument we'd had. When I came to know of his hospitalisation, I'd lost him within seven hours. I still regret the last conversation with him.

When he died, he took a big piece of me with him. I'm sure that every time I do something, I'll think about having done it with Hef.

There is always someone you are going to miss and for me it's my dad. I always hoped he would see me marry, but these things happen in life. I know he is proud of me.

I think losing my father was OK in the sense that it's cool for me not to have a father; it's normal. I'm supposed to bury my father. But what I didn't realize was that my father was my best friend, and that still gets me... that still irritates me a lot.

Do i really want him dead? What i want... what i want is to have him back.

My mother was dead for five years before I knew that I had loved her very much.

Her first reaction was one of hope, because his eyes were open and shining with a radiant light she had never seen there before. She prayed to God to give him at least a moment so that he would not go without knowing how much she had love him despite all their doubts, and she felt an irresistible longing to begin life with him over again so that they could say what they had left unsaid and do everything right that they had done badly in the past. But she had to give in to the intransigence of death. (Love in the Time of Cholera)

Any place, then, can become a cemetery. All it takes is your body. It's not fair, I think, and I get this petulant wish for ugly flowers and mourners, my mother's old familiar grief. Somebody I love to tend my future grave. Probably this is the wrong thing to be wishing for.

The death of Malcolm Fraser underwrites a great loss to Australia... I always thought Malcolm would be around a lot longer. I must say, I wished he had been.

For sorrow there is no remedy provided by nature; it is often occasioned by accidents irreparable, and dwells upon objects that have lost or changed their existence; it requires what it cannot hope, that the laws of the universe should be repealed; that the dead should return, or the past should be recalled.

When a friend is carried to his grave, we at once find excuses for every weakness, and palliation of every fault. We recollect a thousand endearments, which before glided off our minds without impression, a thousand favors unrepaid, a thousand duties unperformed; and wish, vainly wish, for his return, not so much that we may receive as that we may bestow happiness, and recompense that kindness which before we never understood.