Missing Someone Who Left Quotes & Sayings

If you wish to discern either the presence or absence of integrity, you need to ask only one question. What is missing? Has anything been left out? — M. Scott Peck

If your right hand was lame, wouldn't your left miss its mate? You might get along without it, but you'd always be aware that something was missing. That's natural, not weak. — Elizabeth Hunter

Alma had grown as tall as a man by now, with broad shoulders ... This need not have necessarily precluded her from marriage. Some men liked a larger woman, who promised a stronger disposition, and Alma, it could be argued, had a handsome profile
at least from her left side. She certainly had a fine, friendly nature. Yet she was missing some invisible, essential ingredient, and so, despite all the frank eroticism that lay hidden within her body, her presence in a room did not kindle ideas of ardor in any man.
It did not help that Alma herself believed she was unlovely. She believed this only because she had been told it so many times, and in so many different ways. Most recently, the news of her homeliness had come straight from her father ... — Elizabeth Gilbert

Every nation on Earth was attacked. Earth's casualties were 461 killed, 223 wounded, none captured, and 216 missing. Mars' casualties were 149,315 killed, 446 wounded, 11 captured, and 46,634 missing. At the end of the war, every Martian had been killed, wounded, captured, or been found missing. Not a soul was left on Mars. Not a building was left standing on Mars. The last waves of Martians to attack Earth were,-to the horror of the Earthlings who pot-shotted them, old men, women, and a few little children. The — Kurt Vonnegut

wasn't Lily; it was Craig Simmons, the landscaper. Holding a sweat-stained baseball cap in his hand, the fortyish-something sandy-haired man stood on the front porch, still wearing his work boots, faded jeans and stained T-shirt. "Hello, Ms. Boatman, I just got back from lunch, noticed your car in the back drive and wondered if you had a chance to look through your house. I wanted to make sure everything is all right." "Yes, we went through the house, and nothing seems to be missing." That wasn't entirely true. She had only been to the library and kitchen, but according to Walt, Adam and Bill left empty — Bobbi Ann Johnson Holmes

Missing someone has to be one of the worst human emotions. All the other feelings like anger and fear and horror get some much more airplay, as if their intensity gives them more value, but whereas those emotions come in violent bursts and are gone again, the gnawing ache of loss has to be simply endured. It's like background noise, it's always there, it never goes away. You just have to try to block it out, distract yourself, hope that tomorrow the hole they left behind has grown a little smaller. — Alexandra Potter

Kaushik, what about a picture?" my father suggested. I shook my head. I had left my camera, my father's old Yashica, at school. "But you always have it with you." That look of irritated disappointment, the one that had appeared the day my mother died and was missing now that he'd married Chitra, passed briefly across my father's face. "I forgot it," I said. It was true, I did always have the camera with me. Even on quiet weekends when I came home and my father and I saw no one I would bring it, taking it with me on walks. This time I had left it behind, knowing that I would not want to document anything. "I don't understand," my father said. "Neither do I," I replied. "You haven't wanted a picture of anything in years." "That's not true." "It is." We were stating facts and at the same time arguing, an argument whose depths only he and I could fully comprehend. — Jhumpa Lahiri

As the tongue returns to a space left by a missing tooth. — George R R Martin

How many toes did I have when we left London, does anyone remember?" Jim asked, examining its feet. "I think one is missing."
"Stop fussing about a missing toe. We have more important things to focus on, like finding Drake and saving him from whatever trouble he's in," I answered, straightening my clothing and zipping up my heavy parka.
"Oh, man, I am missing one! I know I had four on this foot! What sort of place was that company you used, demon-haters or something?"
"Budget Teleporters is a perfectly good company. Didn't you listen to their warning about keeping your arms and legs in the portal at all times? — Katie MacAlister

The Wishing Bones

A thousand grandmothers ago
Pyrrha and Deucalion repopulated
the world with rocks, bones of mother Earth,
a generation of my ancestors strained
from the mud of a drowned planet.

But I'm more interested in my earliest
grandmothers, their gills and wetness,
before they crawled from that blue expanse
and learned to carry the sea within them,
in their cells, between their cells, in their eyes.

The buoyancy of ocean has never left us.
It hides in skin's complex reservoir
where we're selectively permeable
and our bodies exchange the smallest life.

If we had no need to distinguish ourselves
from others we'd be missing the skin
that defines lovers and enemies
and opens itself to both. — Jalina Mhyana

On the Eighth Day Adam Slept Alone

It must have been
the eighth day.

A day the scribes and Pharisees conveniently
left out.

Adam was either inspecting goats
or naming the birds

when something pinched
my side.

I had to stop pruning the tree of knowledge
to catch my breath.

God had taken a long weekend.

At first I thought the solitude of gardening
was going to my head.

Was it loneliness?
An omen? A vision?

For a moment I thought I would
ascend.

Then I realized it was just a rib
missing.

How you found your way in
along the banks of the third river

I will never know
but I still shiver to recall

how perfectly your fingers
fell into place

along the ridges
of my ribcage.

Go ahead, Love,
take every last bone.

Make of me
what you will. — Nancy Boutilier

she saw all those who were in the pickup truck with her husband. Their clothes were torn. Their hands and faces were covered in blood and dust. They looked as shell-shocked as they felt. What's more, they were hungry and thirsty and exhausted and grieving their families and friends and the town they had left behind. "I heard, on the wireless," Claire said without missing a beat. "It's all anyone is talking about. Thank God you're okay. Come in. All of you, please come in. We will get you something to eat and give you a place to sleep and a hot bath. Come in; don't be shy. You're with friends here. — Joel C. Rosenberg

Part of him was missing, a gaping hole where his heart had once been. It was the part he had left behind with her, the part she carried with her wherever she went. — J.M. Darhower

Something is missing: that's as close as I can come to naming the sensation, an awareness of missed or thwarted connections, or of a great hollowness left where something lovely and solid used to be ... There is something fundamentally insatiable about being human, as though we come into the world with a kind of built-in tension between the experience of being hungry, which is a condition of striving and yearning, and the experience of being fed, which may offer temporary satisfaction but always gives way to new strivings, new yearnings. — Caroline Knapp

I also miss the support that I had of so many people. You know I'm a very Ma and Pa operation right now, and I was used to having everything working for me. It was a similar situation when I left Anne Klein and started Donna Karan. All of a sudden I was working in my apartment and it was, "Oh my god, what am I doing?" — Donna Karan

As far as we know in the history of this cycle, the first human being to set foot on Antarctica was an American sealer named Capt. John Davis, in 1821." "Is it possible," asked Sinclair, "that parts of the historical record are missing?" "Anything's possible, but when scholars came across this map in Turkey in 1929, they speculated that it had been drawn from even earlier documents that are now unknown. My thought is that perhaps those earlier documents dated from the 10th Cycle somehow. What I'd like to find in the library is confirmation that the 10th Cyclers knew of Antarctica, and perhaps that they left representations of the geography of the globe that were known earlier in our own cycle. — J.C. Ryan

Mutt enjoyed traveling by car, but he was an unquiet passenger. He suffered from the delusion, common to dogs and small boys, that when he was looking out the right-hand side, he was probably missing something far more interesting on the left-hand side. — Farley Mowat

I pointed to the wound. "It's missing," I said.
My grandmother smiled, and that was all it took for me to stop seeing the scar, and to recognize her again. "Yes," she said. "But see how much of me is left? — Jodi Picoult

There are an endless number of people who have left a love-shaped hole in the heart of someone else. Eventually someone brave and stupid will come along and try to fill that hole. But it never works, and so instead, that selfless soul winds up with a gap in his heart, too. And so on. It's a miracle that anyone survives, when so much of us is missing. — Jodi Picoult

She left," Cath said, "and she never came back. Who does that?"
"I don't know ... someone who's missing a piece. — Rainbow Rowell

THE WORLD IS increasingly designed to depress us. Happiness isn't very good for the economy. If we were happy with what we had, why would we need more? How do you sell an anti-ageing moisturiser? You make someone worry about ageing. How do you get people to vote for a political party? You make them worry about immigration. How do you get them to buy insurance? By making them worry about everything. How do you get them to have plastic surgery? By highlighting their physical flaws. How do you get them to watch a TV show? By making them worry about missing out. How do you get them to buy a new smartphone? By making them feel like they are being left behind. To be calm becomes a kind of revolutionary act. To be happy with your own non-upgraded existence. To be comfortable with our messy, human selves, would not be good for business. — Matt Haig

The problem with stealing the magician's assistant from a carnival was that you were always waiting for her to disappear. He expected her to vanish. She had in fact, multiple times, before Simon was born, and just after, too.

...Daniel wanted to be worried for, wanted to be missed without doing any of the leaving that missing demanded. When Paulina left, he counted breaths, and thought constantly of the disappearing box. The reappearing was the most important part of the trick. Eventually he stopped living in fear that she wouldn't come back. The more pressing concern was that she was cutting herself in two. — Erika Swyler

[Sarah has had the middle finger of her left hand amputated] and she says that when she types:
I can't rely on E,D, and C anymore. They go missing when I need them most. Pleased becomes please. Ecstasies becomes stasis. — Chris Cleave

Red, brown, yellow, green, black. Five colours to say everything that could be said. And what Cy suddenly wanted, more than anything in the world just then, what he wanted was that missing blue, primary and resistant to the trade. Blue that was unstable and misbehaved when left in skin. Blue like the sea that had taken his father. Blue, for his mother's sake, and for the true colour of every bereaved and bloodless heart when it is collapsing. — Sarah Hall

What does a woman do as she waits for her man? She may wash her hair, put on makeup, choose the kind of outfit any woman would be eager to try on, spray on perfume, and look at herself one last time in the mirror. If she does these things, it's when she and the man she's waiting for are in love. It's different when a woman waits for a man she still loves but who has broken up with her, because the pure joy of it is missing. Loving someone is like carving words into the back of your hand. Even if the others can't see the words, they, like glowing letters, stand out in the eyes of the person who's left you. Right now, that's enough for me. — Kyung-ran Jo

They'd had fun, for sure. They laughed and enjoyed being together. But if she was painfully honest with herself, something was missing. Something in the way Tim looked at her. She remembered her mom's word. "I saw the way he looked at you ... he adores you." Maybe that was it. Tim looked at her on a surface level. He smiled and seemed happy to see her. But When Cody looked at her, there were no layers left, nothing her didn't reveal, nothing he couldn't see. He didn't really look at her so much as he looked into her. To the deepest, most real places in her heart and soul. — Karen Kingsbury

And with that reunion ... it was like I was emerging from a cave-one I'd been in for almost five weeks-into the bright light of day. When Dimitri had turned, I'd felt like I'd lost part of my soul. When I'd left Lissa, another piece had gone. Now, seeing her ... I began to think maybe my soul might be able to heal. Maybe I could go on after all. I didn't feel 100 percent whole yet, but her presence filled up that missing part of me. I felt more like myself than I had in ages. — Richelle Mead

Two million years ago, several proto-human lineages had coexisted side by side until a shake-up left only one. It now appears that a similar shake-up occurred within the last 60,000 years, and that all of us alive in the world today are descended from the winner of that upheaval. What was the last missing ingredient whose acquisition helped our ancestor to win? — Jared Diamond

The center was not holding. It was a country of bankruptcy notices and public-auction announcements and commonplace reports of casual killings and misplaced children and abandoned homes and vandals who misplaced even the four-letter words they scrawled. It was a country in which families routinely disappeared, trailing bad checks and repossession papers. Adolescents drifted from city to torn city, sloughing off both the past and the future as snakes shed their skins, children who were never taught and would never now learn the games that had held the society together. People were missing. Children were missing. Parents were missing. Those left behind filed desultory missing- persons reports, then moved on themselves. — Joan Didion

Gus flipped open the egg carton and handed Isaac an egg. Isaac tossed it, missing the car by a solid forty feet.
"A little to the left," Gus said.
"My throw was a little to the left or I need to aim a little to the left?"
"Aim left." Isaac swiveled his shoulders.
"Lefter," Gus said. Isaac swiveled again.
"Yes. Excellent. And throw hard."
Gus handed him another egg, and Isaac hurled it, the egg arcing over the car and smashing against the slow-sloping roof of the house. "Bull's-eye!" Gus said.
"Really?" Isaac asked excitedly.
"No, you threw it like twenty feet over the car. Just, throw hard, but keep it low. And a little right of where you were last time."
Isaac reached over and found an egg himself from the carton Gus cradled. He tossed it, hitting a tailing.
"Yes!" Gus said. "Yes! TAILLIGHT! — John Green

Without her, part of my soul was missing. My heart had left with her, when she moved with Henry here, putting half the planet between us, making me wait for the rare phone calls. — Nicole Kiefer

When someone leaves you, apart from missing them, apart from the fact that the whole little world you've created together collapses, and that everything you see or do reminds you of them, the worst is the thought that they tried you out and, in the end, the whole sum of parts adds up to you got stamped REJECT by the one you love. How can you not be left with the personal confidence of a passed over British Rail sandwich? — Helen Fielding

If you miss the bus, miss the train, you'd be left behind. So everyone says, let's get on the train, let's get on the bus and go faster and get rich ... I just didn't like that kind of lifestyle. I love to read books, to listen to music. — Haruki Murakami

What makes a poem a poem, finally, is that it is unparaphrasable. There is no other way to say exactly this; it exists only in its own body of language, only in these words. I may try to explain it or represent it in other terms, but then some element of its life will always be missing.
It's the same with painting. All I can say of still life must finally fall short; I may inventory, weigh, suggest, but I cannot circumscribe; some element of mystery will always be left out. What is missing is, precisely, its poetry. — Mark Doty

But we always avoided talking about these things - difficult things - and I wondered if that meant we'd be a little uncomfortable with or disappointed by each other for the rest of our lives. — Catherine Lacey

This wasn't a commodifiable realization, the kind of thing in college essays or inspirational books or the hardbound journals of gentle ladies. There was no ah, no ha, no relaxation or humor folded into this realization. There was just something real in my head - a rescue boat in a sea where there was no one left to save. — Catherine Lacey