Quotes About Sorrow

Anakku, jangan engkau berduka. Siapa yang bisa melipur hatiku dan hatimu. Karena kesalahanku bangsa besar ini musnah. -Dewi Gandari kepada Drupadi

No virtuous man is strong enough to live in virtue at all times, nor is any sinner bad enough to exist in one welter of sin. Life is a tangled web and there is no one in the world who has not done both good and evil. Each and everyone has to bear the consequence of his actions. Do not give way to sorrow.

Is he dead? [Hero Devlin] Alexi knelt in the snow beside the still body. Not yet. But he will be soon. Hero sucked in a deep breath tainted with the stench of fresh blood and burning fur. Good. Alexi looked up at her. Your muff is on fire. Drat, said Hero, dropping the flaming fur into the melting snow. I just purchased it.

People´s biggest problem, I realized, is that they project their own sorrow onto other people. Try to share them. They imagine that, because we share the same of sort of DNA, we will automatically feel sad about the same situations. Sorrow doesn't get easier to deal with simply because you share it. Quite the contrary, it gets heavier.

Sorrow makes for sincerity, I think... The little there is belongs to people who have experienced some sorrow.

Los muertos se olvidan. Lo cual no quiere decir que no se lloren sincera y hondamente durante algún tiempo

The Lord sometimes uses sorrow in our lives to deepen us," Miss Lucy says. "This is one of those times." "Why do we have to be deep?" I wonder aloud. Miss Lucy looks at me as if she's never considered that question. "Because what good are we if we're shallow? He can use us when we have some depth. He had sorrows, so why shouldn't we?

Terri Blackstock

there is no greater misery than to remember, with bitter regret, a day when you were happy 

At that moment, he knew what death really meant and he was afraid. There was no adventure in it, no sense of purpose or choice, nothing but a sickening disgust and shock. All those men had died for some senseless reason, died perhaps without ever knowing exactly what they had fought to accomplish. Nothing was worth such terrible slaughter—nothing.

Dar gândurile lui erau sec?tuite È™i sumbre È™i, în t?cerea ce le urm?, se pomeni fa??-n fa?? cu spectrul rânjit al propriei disper?ri.

Alone, he must bear the weight of a sin he dare not confess to the one person he loves…and has lost.

Desperately, his mind raced as he cried, trying to make time go backward, to do it again differently, to ignore the voices, to keep hold of her hand, to save her.

Everything was white around the childlike beauty of her face. "I'm so sorry, Denna," he whispered. "You will remember me?" "I will have nightmares the rest of my life." Her smile widened. "I'm glad." She seemed genuinely proud.

You didn't have to know Pilu for long to see that he floated through life like a coconut on the ocean. He always bobbed up. There was some sort of natural spring of cheerfulness that bubbled to the surface. Sadness was like a cloud across the sun, soon past. Sorrow was tucked away somewhere in his head, locked up in a cage with a blanket over it, like the captain's parrot.

Sorrow has a voice. It is the cold scream of silence turned inward.

I do not care. My baby, my baby, oh, Janna. Ako na lang sana." People gasped at her last words and made the sign of the cross. It was very bad luck, what she said, to wish that it had been she who had died instead.

My aunts did not share in the housework, but they contributed greatly to all of the village gossip. They had fake faces, showing Mama kindness and calling her ate, "big sister," but once they were alone, I heard the snide remarks they shot like an arrow in her direction. They had no shame. On that day of our deepest sorrow, the two of them snorted, elbowing each other while Mama writhed in agony on the floor

We ruminate on suffering, regret, and sorrow. We chew on them, swallow them, bring them back up, and eat them again and again. If we're feeding our suffering while we're walking, working, eating, or talking, we are making ourselves victims of the ghosts of the past, of the future, or our worries in the present. We're not living our lives.

Clinging to what is dear brings sorrow and fear. Sorrow and fear spring from affection; from indulgence in sensual pleasures; from preoccupation with lustful pleasures; from craving.

Ich liebe dich ja… wie heißt es doch, wenn man einen Zweig abbricht und die Blätter abreißt? Von Herzen, mit Schmerzen, über alle Maßen.

You felt no sorrow? No shame? Then? Yes, shame, maybe. Maybe sorrow, too, a little. I knew it was terrible. I felt that it was, of course. But still—you see— Yes, I know. That Miss X. You wanted to get away. Yes—but mostly I was frightened, and I didn't want to help her. Yes! Yes! Tst! Tst! Tst! If she drowned you could go to that Miss X. You thought of that? The Reverend McMillan's lips were tightly and sadly compressed. Yes. My son! My son! In your heart was murder then.

The two duties are to lament or praise.

We may think that if we ignore our fears, they'll go away. But if we bury worries and anxieties in our consciousness, they continue to affect us and bring us more sorrow