Quotes About Sorrow

the enslaved "would make the dense old woods, for miles around, reverberate with their wild songs, revealing at once the highest joy and the deepest sadness.

Guy fell silent again. And then he said—and his voice sounded sorrowful and distressed—"Last week I killed my hamster." "Just by staring at it?" I asked. "Yes," confirmed Guy.

Men, - men, - jo mer han så i det, jo klarere gikk det opp for ham, at det, når alt kom til alt, dog var der, - i kjærligheten - og merkelig nok ikke i hans embedskarriere eller stolte opposisjon, - at han hadde levd sitt egentlige innerste, dypeste liv gjennom sorg og glede.

Handicapped with my own melancholy

Not only do you lose a person to death, but you lose their noise too—their noise and smells, gestures and facial expressions. You lose the way they talk and phrase things and laugh, the way they fill in your blanks without ever thinking about it or having to try. You lose things you love about them they don't even know they possess.

No one has ever been able to successfully map the coast of sorrow. It is not because of the jagged reefs, the treacherous fogs and shoals. Or because it's prone to ferocious storms and deadly tides that can eat a ship as easily as it can a man in the water. No one has ever been able to map the coast of sorrow because so much of it is invisible.

He wanted this someone to see how much he hurt.

Over the balustrade I could see the dark trees of Webster Groves and the more distant TV-tower lights that marked the boundaries of my childhood. A night wind coming across the football practice field carried the smell of thawed winter earth, the great sorrowful world-smell of being alive beneath a sky.

he felt unbearably sorry for himself. It was strange that self-pity wasn't on the list of deadly sins; none was deadlier.

She seemed more pitiable than murderable.

Dad, Dad, Dad. What's wrong?" Alfred looked up at his son and into his eyes. He opened his mouth, but the only word he could produce was "I—" I— I have made mistakes— I am alone— I am wet— I want to die— I am sorry— I did my best— I love my children— I need your help— I want to die— "I can't be here," he said.

His expression was like a perspectival regression toward a vanishing point of misery.

Mother died when he was twelve. He did not want sympathy, he only wanted her back.

It was a rebus of heartbreak, misfortune a dog could parse.

She wept for the hurt that he owned, a hurt she could never hope to remove.

In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that, and so I felt, that night, like the turtle that everything else in the universe was on top of.

I looked at everyone and wondered where they came from, and who they missed, and what they were sorry for.

Sadness of love without release.

In the end, everyone loses everyone.

Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of...

I would have done anything for him. Maybe that was my sickness. We made love in nothing places and turned the lights off. It felt like crying. We could not look at each other. It always had to be from behind. Like that first time. And I knew he wasn't thinking of me. He squeezed my sides so hard, and pushed so hard. Like he was trying to push me through to somewhere else. Why does anyone ever make love?

It was inevitable: Yankel fell in love with his never-wife. He would wake from sleep to miss the weight that never depressed the bed next to him, remember in earnest the weight of gestures she never made, long for the un-weight of her un-arm slung over his too-real chest, making his widower's rememberences that much more convincing and his pain that much more real.

But I knew that there couldn't be pockets that enormous. In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that, and so I felt, that night, like the turtle that everything else in the universe was on top of.

In the end, everyone looses everyone. There was no invention to get around that, and so I felt, that night, like the turtle that everything else in the universe was on top of.