Quotes About Sorrow

Whatever the theories may be of woman's dependence on man, in the supreme moments of her life he can not bear her burdens. Alone she goes to the gates of death to give life to every man that is born into the world. No one can share her fears, no one can mitigate her pangs; and if her sorrow is greater than she can bear, alone she passes beyond the gates into the vast unknown.

All that remains is regret for what might have been. It is like standing in the ashes of a fire you once approached to warm your body a little, but which burned you to the bone instead. Now the ashes are cold, and sometimes you remember that even when your hand was in the flames, you still had a terrible need to thrust it deeper.

because there are no winners in this sorry state of affairs. We are all losers; we are all diminished.

All that remains is regret for what might have been. It is like standing in the ashes of a fire you once approached to warm your body a little, but which burned you to the bone instead.

Recordar puede ser tan doloroso cómo no recordar.

A propósito de ello escribió Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: «Cada hombre tiene algún pesar secreto, el cual el mundo no conoce; y a menudo tildamos a un hombre de frío cuando tan sólo está triste».

Don't call me Naomi, which means pleasant. But call me Miriam, which means bitterness. I will weep, and I will not be comforted, for the Lord God hath dealt bitterly with me." She would light a candle to Mary, Esther decided.

Ezra blew into Sarah's mouth frantically, knowing it was hopeless, but unwilling to admit it to himself. If he stopped breathing for her, he would have to begin life without her

How much of what passes for grief in the world is really nothing more than regret?

And then I say to myself that we should believe in that which we felt when we were strong and happy rather than in that which we feel when we are sick and sad. Do you not think, Judith, that one is more truly oneself in times of joy than in times of sorrow?

And as for herself, if she could manage to welcome sorrow as readily as joy, it would shape her as deftly as joy could have to whatever beauty of being it was within her power to reach...

Unlike Job's comforters he believed there was a supreme goodness that could renew his own soul beyond this wasting sorrow of human life and death.

The value of little things was heightened by her enjoyment of them; the value of life itself was heightened because she had bought her knowledge of it with bitter sorrow and yet in her old age could wear it with such grace.

Why?" he whispered as he leaned over her, supported on one arm. "Why must ye be the one that haunts me dreams? I've seen ye weepin' night after bloody night since the day I sent ye from me palace with yer dress half undone. If I had it to do over again, I'd cut me own right hand off rather than hurt ye so. Will ye never be able to forgive me, Silence love?" "I already have," she replied, cradling his cheek in her hand. "Long, long ago.

Poetry first introduced me to the concept that pain could, perhaps, be viewed as 'the pain' and not 'my pain.' That sorrow and loneliness and abandonment were the human condition, not my sole possession

respond to that except by admitting it? 'Yes. My eyes are always stinging from the smoke of it.

Grief is the proof of our love, a demonstration of how deeply we have allowed another to touch us.

Too many memories, each one sharper and more painful than the last.

The ground and the air were as nothing to her, for all her life had been plucked out and there was nothing left but the knowledge that it had been taken away.

Unrequited love–plain desperate aboveboard boy-chasing–turned you into a salesperson, and what you were selling was something he didn't want, couldn't use, would never miss. Unrequited love was deciding to be useless, and I could never abide uselessness.

This is the happiest story in the world with the saddest ending.

Grief, as I understood it - grief and I were acquainted - is the kind of loss that sets you on fire as you struggle to put it out.

I will not ask you for forgiveness. What I have done is unforgivable. I was so lost in hatred and revenge. I never dreamed that I could love you so much. You stole what was left of my heart. And now I've lost you forever.

softly, her voice cracking with emotion. "I will not ask you for forgiveness. What I have done is unforgivable. I was so lost in hatred and revenge. I never dreamed that I could love you so much. You stole what was left of my heart. And now I've lost you forever." She paused, wiping a tear. "But I swear, no harm will come to you as long as I live…and not a day shall pass that I won't miss your smile.…