Quotes About Sorrow

A plange e o impudoare la fel de mare ca a te arata gol-pusca. Larimile sunt mai intime decat pielea.

Old Men's Souls Within their ancient, decrepit bodies the souls of old men wallow. Poor things, so full of sorrow: how bored with the wretched life they bear, yet how they cherish it and how they fear its loss, these contrary and befuddled souls, tragicomically huddled inside their ancient, desiccated hides.

Desires" Like beautiful bodies of the dead who had not grown old and they shut them, with tears, in a magnificent mausoleum, with roses at the head and jasmine at the feet — that is how desires look that have passed without fulfillment; without one of them having achieved a night of sensual delight, or a moonlit morn.

but remember that I shall love your sorrow...

He walked out in the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.

Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.

I got another chestful of air in, tore loose with it. 'Somebody help me! You people standing around looking, isn't there one of you will help me? I brought my wife here last night; now she's gone and they're trying to tell me I never -' ("All At Once, No Alice")

No desolation equal to that of the pagan, suddenly bereft. For to the pagan, there is no hereafter.

HE HAD SIGNED her own death-warrant. He kept telling himself over and over that he was not to blame, she had brought it on herself. He had never seen the man. He knew there was one. He had known for six weeks now. Little things had told him. One day he came home and there was a cigar-butt in an ashtray, still moist at one end, still warm at the other.

I hate the world. Everything comes into it so clean and goes out so dirty. (from COVER CHARGE - currently not listed)

Worrying is carrying tomorrow's load with today's strength- carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. Worrying doesn't empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.

Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end. —William Shakespeare

She sat on the toilet and cradled her aborted baby, as if it were alive. And her eyes were like an endless well where you could not see the bottom.

She stole a piece of my heart but I couldn't ask for a better place I'd rather be imprisoned.

O, the sorrow of us all, to wander the earth in a shell. And looking to the heavens, we lay to rest in hell. The suffering of the innocent in the midst of Jacob's well. How the miles fled between us, and that distance is still great. Though on the same shore we now sit, in temporal quietude to wait. The moon is our bright witness; it will lead us to the gate.

their child is dead? Sure

I'm sorrowed to see the time spent in the echoing halls of criminal investigation have done nothing to curb your native vulgarity." They

When someone dies, it doesn't leave a hole, and that's the agony.

I thought suddenly, what is the meaning of all these things? All these bags and bags I've been packing? We could take everything we have with us. We could take every single thing that every single person in the world has ever had. But not of it would mean anything to me. Because no matter how much I took and no no matter how much I had for the rest of my life, I didn't have him anymore. I could have piled everything from here straight to heaven. None of it was him.

Because tears look like stars hanging on your eyelashes.

My father had been buried for a month when my mother came back to claim me. She returned as somebody even I didn't recognize—a spirit barely alive imprisoned in her body, a husk. When we returned home, I mourned as much for the loss of my mother as I did for my father. Even then her shoulders had started to slump in surrender. Her skin had begun to wrinkle.

She fuckin broke his heart. The heart too many had tried to carve right out of his chest. The heart he'd given to her two centuries before.

Nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom .... These are the beginnings of sorrows.