Quotes About Sorrow

The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in the excess of grief.

Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth, nor of heaven, could redeem my soul from woe; the very accents of love were ineffectual. I was encompassed by a cloud which no beneficial influence could penetrate. The wounded deer dragging its fainting limbs to some untrodden brake, there to gaze upon the arrow which had

Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth, nor of heaven, could redeem my soul from woe; the very accents of love were ineffectual. I was encompassed by a cloud which no beneficial influence could penetrate. The wounded deer dragging its fainting limbs to some untrodden brake, there to gaze upon the arrow which had pierced it, and to die, was but a type of me.

We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.      We rise; one wand'ring thought pollutes the day. We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,      Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away; It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,      The path of its departure still is free. Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;      Nought may endure but mutability!

Tapi sekarang, setelah merasakan kesedihan, bagiku manusia kelihatan sebagai serigala yang ingin saling memakan sesamanya.

Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth, nor of heaven, could redeem my soul from woe: the very accents of love were ineffectual. I was encompassed by a cloud which no beneficial influence could penetrate. The wounded deer dragging its fainting limbs to some untrodden brake, there to age upon the arrow which had pierced it, and to die - was but a type of me.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have been extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.

We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep. We rise; one wand'ring thought pollutes the day. We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep, Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away; It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow, The path of its departure still is free. Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; Nought may endure but mutability!

I wish to soothe him; yet can I counsel one so infinitely miserable, so destitute of every hope of consolation, to live?

and I foresaw obscurely that I was destined to become the most wretched of human beings.

Our house was the house of mourning.

A selfish pursuit had cramped and narrowed me, until your gentleness and affection warmed and opened my senses; I became the same happy creature who, a few years ago, loved and beloved by all, had no sorrow or care.

sorrow only increased with knowledge

It is also a duty owed to yourself; for excessive sorrow prevents improvement or enjoyment, or even the discharge of daily usefulness, without which no man is fit for society.

If grief kills us not, we kill it. Not that I cease to grieve; for each hour, revealing to me how excelling and matchless the being was, who once was mine, but renews the pang with which I deplore my alien state upon earth. But such is God's will; I am doomed to a divided existence, and I submit. Meanwhile I am human; and human affections are the native, luxuriant growth of a heart, whose weakness it is, too eagerly, and too fondly, to seek objects on whom to expend its yearning.

He felt that every sorrow was less than that which separation must produce; and that to share adversity with her was greater happiness than the enjoyment prosperity apart from her.

He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.

I was seized by remorse and the sense of guilt, which hurried me away to a hell of intense tortures as no language can describe

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed for ever - that the brightness of a beloved eye can be extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar, and dear to the ear, can be hushed, never more to be heard.

She was no longer that happy creature who in earlier youth wandered with me on the banks of the lake and talked with ecstasy of our future prospects. The first of those sorrows which are sent to wean us from the earth had visited her, and its dimming influence quenched her dearest smiles.

My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy;

I am alone – quite alone – in the world – the blight of misfortune has passed over me and withered me; I know that I am about to die and I feel happy – joyous.

whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed forever—that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.

the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.