Quotes About Sorrow

des larmes plutôt gémies que pleurées, une douleur parlée plutôt que sentie

Nunca me ha ocurrido; no sé llorar. En cuanto las lágrimas acuden a mis ojos, los sollozos anudan mi garganta, me ahogo, mi respiración se mezcla con gritos y gemidos; y, como aborrezco dar espectáculos de dolor, he pensado en quedarme muerta; y así he de morir probablemente algún día, si alguna desgracia me sorprende estando sola.

Show your cock, she says, and dies again.

Then let me be happy no more.

Oh, the pathos of it!—haggard, drawn into fixed lines of unutterable sadness, with a look of loneliness, as of a soul whose depth of sorrow and bitterness no human sympathy could ever reach. The impression I carried away was that I had seen, not so much the President of the United States, as the saddest man in the world.

He had no aversion to me, is how I might put it. Or rather, he had once had such an aversion, still bore traces of it, but, in examining that aversion, pushing it into the light, had somewhat, already, eroded it. He was an open book. An opening book. That had just been opened up somewhat wider. By sorrow. And—by us. By all of us, black and white, who had so recently mass-inhabited him.

And now must lose them.

All were in sorrow, or had been, or soon would be. It was the nature of things. Though on the surface is seemed every person was different, this was not true. At the core of each lay suffering; our eventual end; the many loses we must experience on the way to that end. We must try to see one another in this way. As suffering limited beings- Perennially outmatched by circumstance, inadequately endowed with compensatory graces.

His mind was freshly inclined toward sorrow; toward the fact that the world was full of sorrow; that everyone labored under some burden of sorrow; that all were suffering; that whatever way one took in this world, one must try to remember that all were suffering (none content; all wronged, neglected, overlooked

that his current state of sorrow was not uniquely his, not at all, but, rather, its like had been felt, would yet be felt, by scores of others, in all times, in every time, and must not be prolonged or exaggerated, because, in this state, he could be of no help to anyone and, given that his position in the world situated him to be either of great help or great harm, it would not do to stay low, if he could help it.

Well, the sister said. Be very sorry for your sins. Oh, he said. I have cried over them all the night, and also for my obstinacy toward your kindness. Will you forgive me? Tears filled his eyes as the nun baptized him. Then he slipped away.

She was crying, with wild entreaty, the way one vomits.

She was so unsettled by love and the sense of her nakedness that her voice shrank in her throat. The peri­ods of the song warbled through the room. Her whole body seemed ablaze . The drunken , singing head shook with some delirious impulse that seemed to be destroy­ ing her. What insanity! She was weeping, in her wild nakedness, as she approached my bed, which to me was a death bed. She fell on her knees, she fell down in front of me and hid her tears in the sheets.

Le monde sent la mort Les oiseaux volent les yeux crevés Tu es sombre comme un ciel noir.

A la rigueur, je suis heureux qu'on ait à rire de ma tristesse : seul m'entend celui dont le cÅ"ur est blessé d'une incurable blessure, telle que jamais nul n'en voulut guérir...

I already knew this immense tenderness, which is only the last degree of sorrow… I knew then, already, that the intimacy of things is death.

She sinks. She sinks in holy sadness. Like an Ophelia in tears she sinks

There are women whose love only ends with death.

The beauty of sorrow is superior to the beauty of life.

On dirait que les projets de joie sont un défi.Trop longuement préparés,ils laissent le temps à la detinée de changer les oeufs dans le nid,et ce sont les chagrins qui nous faudra couver.

The more enchanted the idyll, greater must be the pain of its ending.

Todo pesar va acompañado de una alegría que lo ilumine. En este mundo nada es perfecto por completo, ni nada por completo insoportable.

It seems as though every joy that comes to one must have a grief to spoil it.' 'It is so, but think instead, dearest, that every grief has joy to lighten it. Nothing in this world is quite perfect, nor quite unbearable.

Ten yards upstream of us, the body of a man was grounded face-down at the edge of the mud. Not much more showed than a hump of shoulder and the line of a leg but there was no doubting what it was. Below the water, lank hair of indeterminate colour floated as if raised in fear and the wavelets caused his hips to rise and fall in an obscene parody of the sexual act.