Quotes About Sorrow

No grief so soft, no pain so sweet, as love's delicious melancholy.

The light of a whole life dies When love is gone.

But leave me to my beer! Gold is dross, love is loss, so if I gulp my sorrows down, or see them drown in foamy draughts of old nut-brown, then I do wear the crown, without the cross!

The blues is losing someone you love and not having enough money to immerse yourself in drink.

Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.

A lover's life lies in death. You shall not find a heart without losing the heart.

There is no wisdom in useless and hopeless sorrow, but there is something in it so like virtue, that he who is wholly without it cannot be loved.

No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.

When from soft love proceeds the deep distress, ah! why forbid the willing tears to flow?

Satin and lace and brown velvet and the faint odor of violets. That was all which was left to him of his love.

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.

The lyric deals with love and sorrow, the aphorism with contradiction and deceit.

Please is frail like a dewdrop, while it laughs it dies. But sorrow is strong and abiding. Let sorrowful love wake in your eyes.

Sweet is true love, though given in vain.

Tape the sound of the moon fading at dawn. Give it to your mother to listen to when she's in sorrow.

I couldn't stand here, hanging on, when the very thing I held disappeared more with each passing day.

I love you forever. I am sorry I cannot love you now.

He is no longer mine to lose, but the grief is there, a gnawing sense of disbelief.

Love laid his sleepless head On a thorny rose bed: And his eyes with tears were red, And pale his lips as the dead.

I am so saddened by the loss of our dear friend, Bonnie Franklin. She was just full of light and love. Bonnie will be very much missed by all the people she touched with her love.

The more one loves, the heavier the meaning of death becomes, and the deeper the sense of loss. Love and death are not different things, they are the front and back of the same thing.

I do not wish to grow old, to outlive my illusions. Only a short respite from cares and sorrow, a brief time of flowers, and music, and love, and laughter, and ecstatic tears.

I lost my one true love. I started drinking.

Why must love always be accompanied--sooner or later--by sorrow and pain? Why not? Because pure bliss is for pure idiots.