Quotes About Sorrow

O life! An age to the miserable, a moment to the happy.

Some reckon their age by years, Some measure their life by art; But some tell their days by the flow of their tears And their lives by the moans of their hearts.

Do not look at life's long sorrow; see how small each moment's pain.

See, the curse of children! In life they keep us frequently in tears, And in the cold grave leave us in pale fears.

One of the things about grief is that it can bring a deeper perspective into your life; in the end, it has, for me, though it's also brought sorrow.

Serve God joyfully. Let there be no sadness in your life: the only true sorrow is sin.

What delights, what pleasures does your life offer you that outweigh the raptures of death?

The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.

Certain realities in life are only seen through eyes that are cleansed through our tears. Let us learn how to weep

I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!

Shattered dreams, worthless years, here I am encased in a hollow shell. Life began, then was done, now I stare into a cold and empty well.

When death gives us a long lease of life, it takes as hostages all those whom we have loved.

The light has gone out of my life.

The depth of my sorrow is the height of my joy.

The sun in my life, it is gone, it is gone

How life teaches us, breaks us, rewards us, and tears us apart... how it lifts us up and brings us down... the wonder of life.

All present life is but an interjection, An'Oh!'or 'Ah!'of joy or misery, Or a 'Ha! ha!'or 'Bah!'a yawn or 'Pooh!' Of which perhaps the latter is most true.

Me, Polly Garter, under the washing line, giving the breast in the garden to my bonny new baby. Nothing grows in our garden, only washing. And babies. And where's their fathers live, my love? Over the hills and far away. You're looking up at me now. I know what you're thinking, you poor little milky creature. You're thinking, you're no better than you should be, Polly, and that's good enough for me. Oh, isn't life a terrible thing, thank God?

Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon. She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow. Hold my hand, he said, and then: why are your putting the sheet over my face?

A hand rules heaven as a hand rules pity; hands have no tears to flow.

The bullet hole opened wide and my heart rolled out of my rib cage and down into a flower bed.

Poor girl? I fail to understand the point of that remark. I think myself a very fortunate girl, I assure you. I'm thoroughly happy, and having a splendid time. Pray don't waste time mourning over me. There's enough sorrow in the world, isn't there, without trying to invent it.

There is not even a Scrabble word for how bad I feel.

Then he pulled out a handgun and shot me in the chest. I was standing on the lawn and I fell. The bullet hole opened wide and my heart rolled out of my rib cage and down into a flower bed. Blood gushed rhythmically from my open wound, then from my eyes, my ears, my mouth. It tasted like salt and failure. The bright red shame of being unloved soaked the grass in front of our house, the bricks of the path, the steps of the porch. My heart spasmed among the peonies like a trout.