Quotes About Sorrow

Grief is a monster.

This is what I know about loss. It doesn't get better. You just get (somewhat) used to it.

I hate you. If only I'd known. If only I'd been enough . I let you down. I wish I could have done something. I should have done something. Was it my fault? Why wasn't I enough? Come back. I love you. I'm sorry.

Suddenly I'm having one of those moments that you have after losing someone—when you feel as if you've been kicked in the stomach and all your breath is gone, and you might never get it back. I want to sit down on the dirty, littered ground right now and cry until I can't cry anymore.

I'm Fading, Maybe I'm Gone Already.

Any time I'm happier with you drowned in the river, I belong in the Asylum.

Melancholy: an appetite no misery satisfies.

Tears do not burn except in solitude.

True confessions are written with tears only. But my tears would drown the world, as my inner fire would reduce it to ashes.

Nothing could be more heart rending than this mute and motionless dispair

He wept for truth which was dead, for heaven which was void. Beyond the marble walls and gleaming jewelled altars, the huge plaster Christ had no longer a single drop of blood in its veins.

Ever since the morning, Pierre had beheld many frightful sufferings in that woeful white train. But none had so distressed his soul as did that wretched female skeleton, liquefying in the midst of its lace and its millions.

I know nothing sadder than a hunchback in love or an ugly woman full of romantic ideals.

The couple fell one atop of the other, struck down, finding consolation, at last, in death.

Quando non c'è più speranza nel futuro, il presente si colora di una spaventosa amarezza.

Lorsque l'avenir est sans espoir, le présent prend une amertume ignoble

Oui, tout son mal venait de ce rire qu'il avait bu.

Et maintenant, que veux-tu que je fasse, si tu emportes toute ma vie ?

If the world is to die in misery, let it at least go out with a song on its lips, and pity for itself.

Odda?am mu serce, a on je zdepta? i odrzuci?.

Existence, after losing her, would be hell

Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. But if you be afraid of your touchiness, you must ask pardon, mind, when she comes in.

In every cloud, in every tree – filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object, by day I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men, and women – my own features mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!

I wish I could hold you, she continued bitterly, till we were both dead!