Quotes About Sorrow

To fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.

And somebody has lost the face That made existence home!

It's such a little thing to weep - So short a thing to sigh - And yet - by Trades - the size of these We men and women die!

Piangere è una piccola cosa - cosa tanto breve un sospiro. Ma cose di tale grandezza uccidono uomini e donne.

Are nothing to the bee; His separation from his rose To him seems misery.

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it, Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee, Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it, Not to partake thy passion, my humility.

parting is all we need to know of hell

Sorrow seems more general than it did, and not the estate of a few persons, since the war began; and if the anguish of others helped one with one's own, now would be many medicines.

Do I repine, is it all murmuring, or am I sad and lone, and cannot, cannot help it? Sometimes when I do feel so, I think it may be wrong, and that God will punish me by taking you away; for he is very kind to let me write to you, and to give me your sweet letters, but my heart wants more.

Sorrow comes with so many defense mechanisms. You have your shock, your denial, your getting wasted, your cracking jokes, and your religion. You also have the old standby catchall—the blind belief in fate, the whole things happening for a reason drill.

There is no grief like heartbreak.

Sorrow comes with so many defense mechanisms. You have your shock, your denial, your getting wasted, your cracking jokes, and your religion. You also have the old standby catchall--the blind belief in fate, the whole things happening for a reason drill. But my personal favorite defense has always been anger, with its trusty offshoots of self-righteous indignation, bitterness, and resentment.

Grief weighs nothing but you still have to drag it around.

Keep your heart infinitesimally small and sorrow will never spy it, never plunge, never flap away with your heart in her claws.

My eyes dawdled across the missalette. I had never noticed before that the official title of the 'Lord have mercy' prayer was the gracious phrase 'Invitation to Sorrow'. Hey there, Sorrow, how've you been keeping? Come on in. If your bike doesn't have lights you can always crash on our sofa tonight. Oh, so you'll be staying a while, Sorrow? Planning to get to know me better? Grand, so. There's tea in the pot. All

Keep your heart infinitesimally small, and sorrow will never spy it...

No one ever loved you like him. And no one ever took it away so completely. But it's here. Look around.

When he asked if he was mine, tears in his eyes, I think he knew what he would do, what he would have to do, and he was mourning us. He was mourning us the whole time.

Resistance is vain in any case; it only leads to useless struggle while inviting grief and sorrow.

Times relieves the foolish from sorrow, but reason relieves the wise

The origin of sorrow is this: to wish for something that does not come to pass.

Time relieves the foolish from sorrow, but reason relieves the wise.

Loss and sorrow are only possible with respect to things we own.

she died of internal weeping