Quotes About Sorrow

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forgetWhat thou among the leaves hast never known,The weariness, the fever, and the fretHere, where men sit and hear each other groan;Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,Where youth grows pale, and specter-thin, and dies;Where but to think is to be full of sorrowAnd leaden-eyed despairs.

I saw pale kings and princes too,Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;They cried—"La Belle Dame sans MerciHath thee in thrall!"

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness painsMy sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,Or emptied some dull opiate to the drainsOne minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk.

from ODE to a NIGHTENGALE: Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain,

Not so long ago, to be sad meant you were filled to the brim with some intensity of experience.

I only know I'm living in the interval between The luxuries of consciousness and the straits of sorrow, A bare condition of mere being in which nothing changes And a life is just the sum of its details as it slowly slips away. — John Koethe, from "On Being Dead," Beyond Belief: Poems (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2022)

When you see as many dead as I do they begin to blur into one colossal corpse. The world-carcass.

PIE?? MI?OSNA DLA ?MIERCI Przychodzisz do mnie znów, Nie zapominasz o mnie. Do ko?ca trwa agonia, A? p?kn? me okowy. Wci?? si? pojawiasz obca i daleka Jeste? ?ywa, ?mierci. Stoisz jak zimna gwiazda Nad moj? rozpacz?. Lecz potem si? przybli?asz, ca?a w p?omieniach. Przyjd?, kochanko, jestem tu. Zabierz mnie, jestem twój.

Feelings, who needs them? Sometimes they're like a gift, when you feel love or happiness. Sometimes they're a curse.

I feel like I'm dropping such a long way down again." "I seem to be dropping into a cold dark wet place, where no one's been before and noone can every follow. There's no future there; just a past that sometimes fools you into thinking it's the future. It's the most alone place you can ever be and, when you go there, you not only cease to exist in real life, you also cease to exist in their consciousness and in their memories.

Half of my heart is a shotgun wedding To a bride with a paper ring And half of my heart is the part of a man Who's never truly loved anything

I LEFT, to earth, a little maiden fair, With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light; I prayed that God might have her in His care And sight. Earth's love was false; her voice, a siren's song; (Sweet mother-earth was but a lying name) The path she showed was but the path of wrong And shame. "Cast her not out!" I cry. God's kind words come -- - "Her future is with Me, as was her past; It shall be My good will to bring her home At last.

Then Phoebe came to the underlined verses. My life with you has been beyond beyond/And there's nothing beyond it I'm seeking/I wouldn't mind being dead/If I could still be with you.

Because Tarik was dead.

All that is good in me I owe to God alone, whose fatherly action is continuous and is so plainly visible in my life that, in spite of great trials and this recent sorrow — the greatest of all — I can still offer Him fervent thanks and must try in future to transform my soul and life to His service.

forgive me If you are not living if you, my beloved, my love if you have died, all the leaves will fall on my breast it will rain upon my soul night and day the snow will burn my heart, I shall walk with cold and fire and death and snow my feet will want to march toward where you sleep, but I shall go on living . . .

On bad days, I could feel the whole year swinging underneath me like a dead thing.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

Loss is not felt in the absence of love.

To live in memory and in dreams is a cruel comfort.

I been in sorrow's kitchen and done licked out all the pots. Nobody knows the trouble I seen. Steal away to Jesus. I ain't got long to stay here.

Whatever's lost, it first was won.

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers-- And that cannot stop their tears.

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,Ere the sorrow comes with years?