Quotes About Sorrow

Don't go, he said, and his voice was so soft and imploring that it took my breath away. But I was already going. I barely heard him call out to me: I need you. You're the only friend I have. How tragic those words! I wanted to say I was sorry, sorry for all of it. But it was too late now for that. And besides, I think he knew. All life seemed utterly unbearable to me now.

Despair is so familiar to me; it could be banished by the sight of a beautiful mannekin in the window. It could be dispelled by the lights surrounding a tower. It would be lifted by the great ghostly shape of St. Patrick's coming into view. And then despair would come again. Meaningless, I almost said, aloud.

Goodbye, darling, would I could leave you with something, some little thing...' 'You leave me with all I'll ever need,' she said softly. There was resignation in her voice. 'You leave me with some hours that other women must make up or read about in stories.

Why do we weep when we see something beautiful? Why are we weakened by beauty? Why does it break our hearts?

But he could not go up to the room as yet, and seating himself on a stone step, his head on his arms, he wept silently. Years had passed since he had shed tears, or so it seemed. Surely years since he had let them flow so copiously. And what stopped him finally was that he could hear his own crying.

This is when you pray, she thought miserably and quietly. This is when you pray to nothing and no one to take away the terror of what you've done, to make it right, to make it that you never never came here.

Do you know what it means to be loved by Death?

Oh, it seems a sin to ask compassion of the dead, those who died in pain, those I couldn't save, those for whom I didn't have the right farewells

Never in all this time since you first came to me, never once have I ever looked into your eyes or heard your voice, or even thought of you, without feeling pain. It's the pain connected to loving you ,to realizing my limits, and what I'll never have. Do you remmeber feeling my heartbeat? You'll never feel such a rhythm as you will with me. I'm your Savage Garden, and yet so tame and soft and safe!

He could not even see the images which I was seeing, so broken was his heart.

Music like that could hurt you. It gave you back your disappointment, and your emptiness. It said, Life can be this. Remember this.

and when I took my fingers down, there was the stain of the tears, tinged with mortal blood. And already there was begun in me the tingling of the monster that had killed, and would kill again

In a fog, I stared at the wounded bouquet of flowers. Pink-throated lilies. I wanted to pick them up. The tiny wounds all over me stung me and hurt me. I hated him that he had made the vase fall over, that the lilies were spilt now on the floor.

Rosse eran le labbra, lo sguardo forte, gialle come l'oro le chiome torte, bianca la pelle qual lebbra fatale, l'Incubo era lei, VITA-NELLA-MORTE, che fredda addensa il sangue mortale.

Slowly, I brushed his hair more tenderly, and I saw to my own mute shock one of my tears fall right onto his face. It was red yet watery and transparent and it appeared to vanish as it moved down the curve of his cheekbone and into the natural hollow below.

You cut my heart out of my chest while I lived and breathed, and you took it with you! We shall be together this night in Hell.

I lay down to sleep in the shrine and knew only dark and troubled dreams.

The agony of losing him was monstrous. How could I deny it with a single syllable?

We immortals, we have no choice but to make a companion of grief, for all the things to which we bear witness, none is more frequent than death.

Oh, my beautiful Marius. Tell me how to remedy this and I will.

My grief for Aaron would never go away, and I'd endured it for years without a word to either of my vampire companions, Louis or Lestat.

In time I conceieved another love naturally, a love for a mortal boy Daniel, to whom Louis had poured out his story, published under the absurd title Interview with the Vampire, whom I later made into a vampire for the same reasons that Marius had made me so long ago: the boy who had been my faithful mortal companion, and only sometimes an intolerable nuisance, was about to die.

Oh, to think this burnt body had within it the blood of tears.

Let me cry for it. It was all my doing. Because I didn't slay the one who despised me. And they have taken Amadeo prisoner. Me, they burnt because I was too strong for their designs, but Amadeo they took!