Quotes About Sorrow

Ah, my dear. Sometimes God takes the most precious children to his own.

I thought then that we would all die in the darkness and solitude. I thought that an executioner would come for us silently one night. I thought I might wake briefly with the weight of a pillow on my face. I thought that I would never see sunshine again. I was a young woman then, and I thought that sorrow as deep as mine could only lead to death. I was grieving for my father and frightened by the absence of my brothers, and I thought that soon I would die too.

His face looked almost as gray as his suit, and the pouches beneath his eyes looked like little bags for holding all the sadness that his head couldn't hold.

All that was left of you was this sock, Peter went on in a small voice. Wally decided that if their family ever became poor, they could send Peter out to beg on street corners, because he obviously could wring your heart.

We may state the question thus:—Imitation imitates the actions of men, whether voluntary or involuntary, on which, as they imagine, a good or bad result has ensued, and they rejoice or sorrow accordingly. Is there anything more? No, there is nothing else. But

You seem to think me inferior to the swans in prophecy. They sing before too, but when they realize that they must die they sing most and most beautifully, as they rejoice that they are about to depart to [85] join the god whose servants they are. But men, because of their own fear of death, tell lies about the swans and say that they lament their death and sing in sorrow.

Death doesn't hurt," said one of the twins, and a light came into his silver eyes. "Death is dark, death is sweet." The other twin took up the litany. "Death is all that lasts forever. Death is eternal beauty." "Death is a lover with a thousand tongues—" "A thousand insect caresses—" "Death is easy.

And what was I if not death's ghostwriter?

The sea of grief has no shores, no bottom; no one can sound its depths.

Sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt

Hoga Gothyelk no longer felt anger, not truly -- only varieties of sorrow.

You sound disappointed." Shane's voice came out faint and thready, and he put his head back against the cushions as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Damn, I hate this. I really do." I know," Oliver said. "Your blood reeks of it.

And somewhere in heaven, Versace sheds a single, perfect tear.

Morley put his hand over his heart and bowed from the waist, a gesture that somehow reminded Claire of Myrnin. It reminded her she missed him, too, which was just wrong. She should not be missing Morganville, or anyone in it. Especially not the crazy boss vampire who'd put fang marks in her neck that would never, ever go away. She was doomed to high-necked shirts because of him. But she did miss him.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, according to the bards. I wouldn't know, myself. I never parted anyone." He mimed ripping someone in half, then got an odd expression on his face. "Well. Just the one time, really. Doesn't count.

If I'm already dead to the people I love, I might as well die for them.

She smells like marijuana smoke. It's not a bad smell. Just a sad one.

I've loved him forever, but he can never be mine.

There's a hole in you where your heart once was. And in its place, you've put history.

Can you imagine, Lizabeta chided me for my anger? I, who was nursed on her sorrow. Yet she said she'd not succeeded with me—for she'd hoped to teach me to despise a prison, be it made at the hand of the Inquisition or by my own heart.

It was the very shape of the world that defeated our love. There is no bitterness in my heart. Only sorrow.

But on my worst days, which are rare and of which this is one, I can get down so low that the bottom seems to be where I belong. I don't even want to look for a way up. I suppose surrender to sadness is a sin, though my current sadness is not a black depression but is instead a sorrow like a long moody twilight.

A part of me knew... from the moment I saw her; her death would have been one wound too many that day.

It's a world of sorrow, Oddie, because we make it so.