Quotes About Sorrow

sorry finds no pray

Fireheart] was interrupted by a screech from Cloudtail. "Fireheart! Fireheart, Brightpaw isn't dead!" Fireheart spun around and raced across the clearing to crouch beside Brightpaw. Her white-and-ginger fur, which, she had always kept so neatly groomed, was spiky with drying blood. On one side of her face the fur was torn away, and there was blood where her eye should have been. One ear had been shredded, and there were huge claw marks scored across her muzzle.

Kill me. Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you won.

Foxleap, no! Not now! I've done everything I could! Oh StarClan, why can't you let me help these cats?

There was a pause as Leopardstar strained to take a breath, and Mistyfoot half rose, ready to call for help. Then Leopardstar relaxed again. "I am sorry not to have known the joy of having kits. There was a time when I thought it might happen, but it was not to be." Her words faded away as though she was picturing something she had dreamed of long ago. "Perhaps it was for the best. But I would have been proud to call you my daughter, Mistyfoot.

skidded to the other side and disappeared into the pines. Pelt bristling, eyes wide, Snowfur streaked after them, over the oily Thunderpath. Bluefur froze. A monster was roaring straight at Snowfur. Without slowing down, it slammed into her body. Bluefur heard the dull thump, then the howl of the monster as it thundered away, leaving Snowfur's body lying like a wet leaf at the edge of the Thunderpath. "No!

I know what it's like to lose kits, Oakheart, I wouldn't wish that kind of grief on any cat.

Rowankit was the sweetest of all my kits," Dovewing was saying, her voice hoarse. "While his littermate was eager to play, eager to explore the camp, Rowankit was always content to be snuggled up to my belly." Dovewing blinked. "I know I'll still reach for him in my sleep. I just can't believe he's gone.

Graystripe's gone?" Firestar whispered. He sat down, drawing his tail around him. Leafpaw's legs trembled. Her father had never seemed so far away, so far beyond her reach to comfort him.

He turned away from Leafpool, bristling with fury. "I hate being blind. I wish I had never been born!

Silverstream!" Graystripe reared up and flung back his head. His wails of grief split the quiet air. "Silverstream!

Eeltail and Splashfoot were standing over three small dark shapes. Eeltail looked up, her eyes brimming with pity. "I'm so sorry," she mewed. "We couldn't save them.

In the final confrontation with the Dark Forest, Spottedleaf gave her life in the stars to save Sandstorm, one last gift to her beloved Firestar.

I wish I hadn't saved you!" he blurted out. "I wish I'd gone for my brother first. Then maybe he'd still be alive!

Darkness swept over Flametail and the sunlight vanished forever.

No!" Speckletail threw her head back and let out a yowl of pure desperation. "My kit! Oh, my kit!

Jaypaw swallowed hard, almost ready to start wailing like a kit that had lost its mother.

The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.

The time-state of attainment eliminates so accurately the time-state of aspiration, that the actual seems the inevitable, and, all conscious intellectual effort to reconstitute the invisible and unthinkable as a reality being fruitless, we are incapable of appreciating our joy by comparing it with our sorrow.

Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down.

In this world, full often, our joys are only the tender shadows which our sorrows cast.

God washes the eyes by tears until they can behold the invisible land where tears shall come no more.

Joy is more divine than sorrow; for joy is bread, and sorrow is medicine.

No grief has a right to immortality. That ground belongs to joy, to hope, to faith.