Quotes About Sorrow

Myron fell silent, his mind seemingly drifting away on some sea of secret sorrow, buoyed by booze and painkillers.

Who knew grief could be so goddamned physical, a dark and sly trickster that blindsided you when you weren't even thinking about loss, and suddenly you couldn't get it out of your mind again.

Losing somebody you love is such a profoundly lonely experience, something only you endure in your own particular way.

Poor human nature, so richly endowed with nerves of anguish, so splendidly made for pain and sorrow, is but slenderly equipped for joy. —George Du Maurier

We may have to face God's truth about our pain--it is real, but we must be careful not to get God and life mixed up. God does not cause the pain and sorrow. He suffers with us and desires to comfort us as only he can.

Grief doesn't feel as if a rug has been pulled out from under her. There is no rug. There is no floor on which to lay a rug. There is no ground on which to build a floor to lay a rug.

Ellie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand; sometimes she didn't realize she'd been crying until the tears slid off her chin and dripped down her neck.

The thought of you leaving and staying away made me want to drop to my knees," he said. "How's that for someone who doesn't care? It's been three days, twelve hours, and six minutes without you.

He died in his sleep one night. An aneurysm, the doctors said. I found him, cold, smiling. Maybe he'd been dreaming of Mother when he went. And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

And for a time, there was nothing else to be done. I wept. And the city burned.

Death is certain, Aleran—for all of us. That being true, we know that all of those we love will either be torn away from us, or we will be torn away from them. It follows as naturally as the night after sundown.

The Queen closed her eye and nodded. She opened it again, and there was a tear tracking down her face. "I tried to be what I was meant to be, Father. It was never personal.

another pang of half-remembered days long gone made my chest ache for a second.

I wept. And the city burned.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

When was the last time you could taste and feel some little lovely's cries?' I regarded her without any expression and said, in a gentle voice, 'Technically? When I killed Aurora.

She was a creature of sorrow turned to such rage that her beauty had become a knife that stabbed at the eyes of any who looked upon it.

Love is a dream. Dreams are good, but do not be surprised if you wake up in tears.

May I whisper in your ear from my heart so you'll clearly hear. There are people so dear… They're like children… Naked in a cold world… Beautiful children In an old world. May I take you away from the evils of today to the dreams of tomorrow? You know that Heaven has no sorrow. We know that Heaven has no tomorrow. Hear the sound of the magic drums… Hearts are beating for the Sun, Sending Evil on the run. Now watch the wind…

I see arms and hands and tear-stained faces... Reaching up but not quite touching the promised land... I hear pleas and prayers and desperate graces, Saying Oh Lord, please give us a helping hand...

Grief is different. Grief has no distance. Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life.

There is no real way to deal with everything we lose.

here lies the heart of the difference between grief as we imagine it and grief as it is) the unending absence that follows, the void, the very opposite of meaning, the relentless succession of moments during which we will confront the experience of meaninglessness itself.