Quotes About Sorrow

Rapture's self is three parts sorrow.

Moon! Moon! I am prone before you. Pity me, And drench me in loneliness.

My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings Vibrate most readily to minor chords, Searching and sad; my mind is stuffed with words Which voice the passion and the ache of things: Illusions beating with their baffled wings Against the walls of circumstance.

But all God's angels come to us disguised: sorrow and sickness, poverty and death, one after other lift their frowning masks, and we behold the Seraph's face beneath, all radiant with the glory and the calm of having looked upon the front of God.

as Freud said; that the nostalgia for lost paradises, for the joys and sorrows of childhood, lays upon our lives a weight as heavy as it is unknown to us.

Her smile, though, no, it was her laugh, a dusky, deep cascading laughter that caught the joy, implied and mocked the sorrow in every joy.

My tears were for my own loneliness, my own blindness.

El amor te hace desgraciado", decía nuestra madre. "Mojas la almohada llorando hasta quedarte dormida, empañas las cabinas telefónicas, con tus lágrimas, tus sollozos hacen aullar al perro, fumas dos cigarrillos a la vez" (Del cuento Mamá)

Lo llaman romperse el corazón porque añorar a alguien es un dolor físico real, lo sientes en la sangre y en los huesos.

they will empty your eyes of everything you love

From the very fountain of enchantment there arises a taste of bitterness to spread anguish amongst the flowers.

Remember me a little while, Pause in the orchard where we often walked, When days were longer and the world was ours. Say, "Cara, please!" one last time, and smile. From beneath the apple tree, Glance up to where I once looked down at you. Wear, just once more, The look that said I was your love, And you were mine until my end. I knew it all the while. Miss me, but not for long. I was your joy, Don't let me be your woe, So remember me, and smile. Then let me go.

With horror he perceived that, by uniting himself as he had with the dead, he had cut himself off from the living. Stripped of all earthly hope, bereft of every consolation, he was rendered as poor as mortal can possibly be on this side of the grave.

They either beheld their children sink one after the other into the grave, or their youthful forms, withered by the unholy, vampire embrace of Brunhilda, assume the decrepitude of sudden age.

What became of all those lost balloons: they were the loves that slipped out of our fists; the blank eyes that rose in every night sky.

let me tell you what happens when you cook down the syrup of loss over the open fire of sorrow: it solidfies into something wlaw. not grief, like you'd expect, or even regret. no, it gets thick as paste, black as ash; yet it isn't until you dip a finger in and feel that sharp taste dissolving on your tounge that you realize this is angel in its purest form, unrefined; a substance to be weighed and measyred and spread.

No matter how long I live, I will always remember the way the light went out of her eyes, like a candle flame caught in an unexpected wind.

As it turns out, you can love someone too much. Then, when they leave, your heart goes missing. And no on can survive that great a loss.

It doesn't matter what it is that leaves a hole inside you. It just matters that it's there.

Whatever we forfeit echoes the pain from all the other times we have been disappointed in our lives.

Kate is going to die. It took me a long time to be able to say that. We all are going to die, when you get down to it, but it's not supposed to be like this. Kate ought to be the one saying goodbye to me.

Se dai il tuo cuore a qualcuno e lui muore, lo porta via con sé? Devi passare il resto della vita con un buco dentro che non può essere riempito?

Tears have a whole different melody, didn't they? without the pain threaded through them?_______ nineteen minutes .

That's the paradox of loss: How can something that's gone weigh us down so much?