Quotes About Sorrow

That sense of loss grew within the hearts of the humans who had been left behind, left to live without unicorns. Even the ones who had never seen a unicorn, felt the passing of something sweet and wonderful. It was as if the air had surrendered a bit of its spice, the water a bit of its sparkle, the night a bit of its mystery.

The spirit is strengthened in sorrow. — Happiness is good for the body, but sorrow strengthens the spirit.

Some of the greatest blues music is some of the darkest music you've ever heard.

Sherrif when the man pulls that switch, Sir And snaps my poor head back, You make sure my pretty baby Is sittin' right there on my lap.

One imagined these barrel organs, beautifully painted, carried on the backs of little grey old men, whose indistinct faces, corroded by life, seemed covered by cobwebs – faces with watery, immobile eyes slowly leaking away, emaciated faces as discoloured and innocent as the cracked and weathered bark of trees, and now like bark smelling only of rain and sky.

Can there be anything sadder than a human being changed into the rubber tube of an enema?

Repentance is not about earning grace but entering it; not about quenching his wrath but quieting the accusations of our hearts; not about unlocking his mercy but releasing our sin-sick sorrow to the Savior, who already rejoices to receive it.

Love endeth like the chianti flask, its drops are bitter.

Oh, lonely death on lonely life! Oh, now I feel my topmost greatness lies in my topmost grief.

The sun hides not the ocean, which is the dark side of this earth, and which is two thirds of this earth. So, therefore, that mortal man who hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true—not

Nevertheless the sun hides not Virginia's Dismal Swamp, nor Rome's accursed Campagna, nor wide Sahara, nor all the millions of miles of deserts and of griefs beneath the moon. The sun hides not the ocean, which is the dark side of this earth, and which is two thirds of this earth. So, therefore, that mortal man who hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true—not true, or undeveloped.

The sun hides not the ocean, which is the dark side of this earth, and which is two thirds of this earth. So, therefore, that mortal man who hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true—not true, or undeveloped.

Here, brush this old hair aside; it blinds me, that I seem to weep. Locks so grey did never grow but from out some ashes! But do I look very old, so very, very old, Starbuck? I feel deadly faint, bowed, and humped, as though I were Adam, staggering beneath the piled centuries since Paradise.

Yet Dives himself, he too lives like a Czar in an ice palace made of frozen sighs, and being a president of a temperance society, he only drinks the tepid tears of orphans.

But gulp down your tears and hie aloft to the royal-mast with your hearts; for your friends who have gone before are clearing out the seven-storied heavens, and making refugees of long-pampered Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael, against your coming. Here ye strike but splintered hearts together—there, ye shall strike unsplinterable glasses!

wife?—rather a widow with her husband alive! Aye, I widowed that poor girl when I married her

Bajo el sombrero gacho una lágrima cayó al mar desde los ojos de Ahab; el Pacífico nunca contuvo tanta riqueza como esa única gota de dolor.

Åžöyle dolu dolu gülmek muhteÅŸem bir ÅŸeydir, ama böyle bir f?rsat insan?n eline nadiren geçer; çoÄŸunlukla kederin elindedir.

Dans la cour de l'hôpital éclairée par ce soleil de juin qui devenait la pire injure au malheur, je compris, pour la première fois car quand Stéphane l'avait dit je n'avais pas voulu le croire, que Muzil allait mourir, incessament sous peu, et cette certitude me défigura dans le regard des passants qui me croisaient, ma face en bouille s'écoulait dans mes pleurs et volait en morceaux dans mes cris, j'étais fou de douleur, j'étais le Cri de Munch.

The Elephant of Depression wasn't just parked on my chest, it was relaxing there with the Walrus of Gloom and the Hippo of Bleak Friday Nights in Alone. They had beers. They were settling in.

He once thought it himself, that he might die with grief: for his wife, his daughters, his sisters, his father and master the cardinal. But pulse, obdurate, keeps its rhythm. You think you cannot keep breathing, but your ribcage has other ideas, rising and falling, emitting sighs. You must thrive in spite of yourself; and so that you may do it, God takes out your heart of flesh, and gives you a heart of stone.

Memories... are always blinding. They cause you pain... and sorrow.

And overpowered by memory Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.

Why have you come to me here, dear heart, with all these instructions? I promise you I will do everything just as you ask. But come closer. Let us give in to grief, however briefly, in each other's arms.