Quotes About Sorrow

Death has more in common with Love than you might imagine.

Can we love but on condition that the thing we love must die?

Most songs are somewhere between love and death, and mine are no exception.

Make songs for Death as you would sing to Love -But you will not assuage him. He aloneOf all the gods will take no gifts from men.

Love is loss combined with pain.

Your fortune is misfortune if it is not Love.

When someone you love dies you pay for the sin of outliving her with a thousand piercing regrets.

But when you kill someone you love, the hard part is never over. It just gets easier to distract yourself from what you've done.

My silks and fine array, My smiles and languished air, By love are driv'n away And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have.

Forgetfulness of grief I yet may gain;In some wise may come ending to my pain;It may be yet the Gods will have me glad!Yet, Love, I would that thee and pain I had!

There is no creature loves me; And if I die, no soul will pity me.

So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.

When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.

I have laid sorrow to sleep;Love sleeps.She who oft made me weepNow weeps.

Because in the end nothing is worse than seeing the fall of one you loved. It was somehow worse than losing a love. It made everything seem questionable. It made the past bitter and confused.

There must still be room for the falling note, of course. Even in an undying world there are times when beauty passes from sight, or love passes from the heart, and we feel the sorrow of partition.

Church of painful love - unfulfilled,unrequited & unattained

For Beatrice, our love broke my heart, and stopped yours.

But the more people we love and the more deeply we love them, the more vulnerable we are to loss and grief and loneliness.

He was there beside her, yet she was far away from him, aone with her outraged love and her ruined life.

The living blind and seeing Dead together lie As if in love . . . There was no more hating then, And no more love; Gone is the heart of Man.

I loved but once, yet twice I lose my love!

Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart. I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain, And I lie disheveled in the grass apart, A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain.

I am the mother that bore you, and your sorrow is my agony; and if you don't hate her, i do' Then, mother, you make me love her more. She is unjustly treated by you, and I must make the balance even.