Contemporaneity specializes in the kind of battles wherein no one loses anything of any value, except arguably their lives.
But then one regrets the loss even of one’s worst habits. Perhaps one regrets them the most. They are such an essential part of one’s personality.
But I was sure of something too: it’s a lot easier to be lost than found. It’s the reason we’re always searching, and rarely discovered – so many locks, not enough keys.
Better to mock the game than to play and lose.
Anything you can acquire is only another thing you’ll lose.
Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.[Quem já perdeu alguma coisa que tinha como garantida acaba por aprender que nada lhe pertence.]
All loss is one, and one loss becomes all, a single death the key to the gate that bars memory.
A man never feels the loss of things which it never occurs to him to ask for.[Die Güter, auf welche Anspruch zu machen einem Menschen nie in den Sinn gekommen ist, entbehrt er durchaus nicht sondern ist.]
A man always finds it hard to realise that he may have finally lost a woman’s love, however badly he may have treated her.