Quotes About Grief

One truth opened another. Ona still shaded everything we did. Ona's death was the last family affair. I'd seen Man suffer. I'd seen her break. Now more than anything. I wanted to see her happy.

By the way, Boots died and Opal says she hopes you're satisfied.

The little girl knew if she bit any member of her family, they would get rabies too, and she died without ever having been petted. I cried so hard Mrs. Underwood had to take me to the school nurse.

She could see that to lose a sibling was hard: it could only seem unnatural:out of time, out of order, a vicious re-run of your own departure into nothingness.

Lucy let herself into her parents' house, or, as she thought of it now, the other hateful house. She thought at that moment that the house was giving off vibes that the people who had lived in it were gone. Gone as in never coming back.

An anxiety for being me, forever trapped in myself, floods my whole being without finding a way out, shaping me into tenderness, fear, sorrow and desolation. An inexplicable surfeit of absurd grief, a sorrow so lonely, so bereft, so metaphysically mine...

It could have been any number of things: hardship, grief or simply the suffering born of the indifference that comes from having suffered too much.

I don't remember my mother. She died when I was one year old. My distracted and callous sensibility comes from the lack of that warmth and from my useless longing after kisses I don't remember.

We don't even know if what ends with daylight terminates in us as useless grief, or if we are just an illusion among shadows, and reality just this vast silence without wild ducks that falls over the lakes where straight and stiff reeds swoon. We know nothing. Gone is the memory of the stories we heard as children, now so much seaweed; still to come is the tenderness of future skies, a breeze in which imprecision slowly opens into stars.

Antinous is dead, is dead for ever, Is dead for ever and all loves lament Venus herself, that was Adonis lover, Seeing him, that newly lived, now dead again, Lends her old grief's renewal to be blent With Hadrian's pain.

Antinoj je mrtav - mrtav doveka, umro je i za njim sve ljubavi tuže. Venera, što ljubljaše Adonisa, ?oveka, u njem' ro?enje i smrt dragog pozna te se njen jad i bol Hadrijanov združe kao tuga grozna.

Adeus, Ophelinha. Durma e coma, e não perca gramas.

Indifferent to this, and grieving only as much as he needs to and for as little time as possible — over the death of a son, for example, whom he will forget as the years pass, except on his birthday; over the loss of money, which he mourns until he gets some more or becomes used to the loss — humanity continues digesting and loving. Life recovers and carries on. The dead are buried. Losses forgotten.

Twice in my adolescence – which I feel so remotely it seems like someone else's story that I read or was told – I enjoyed the humiliating grief of being in love. From my present vantage point, looking back to that past which I can no longer designate as 'long ago' or 'recent', I think it was good that this experience of disillusion happened to me so early.

It is not tedium that one feels. It is not grief. It is the desire to go to sleep clothed in a different personality, to forget, dulled by an increase in salary.

As She Passes When I am sitting at the window, Through the panes, which the snow blurs, I see the lovely images, hers, as She passes ... passes ... passes by ... Over me grief has thrown its veil:- Less a creature in this world And one more angel in the sky. When I am sitting at the window, Through the panes, which the snow blurs, I think I see the image, hers, That's not now passing ... not passing by ...

The reality of death has come upon us and a consciousness of the power of God has broken our complacency like a bullet in the side. A sense of the dramatic, of the tragic, of the infinite, has descended upon us, filling us with grief, but even above grief, wonder. Our plans were so beautifully laid out, ready to be carried to action, but with magnificent certainty God laid them aside and said, You have forgotten - Mine? A meditation on her fathers death.

The dead are a heap more trouble than the living.

Busbee was like a family member to me.

When you lose someone you love, you don't think the same way. And that's why I say I enjoy life: because it goes very fast.

I knew what my fatal error was: After running perilously fast in lane five, I slowed down at 250 meters. I could not cover the lost ground after that - and that cost me the race. After the death of my parents, that is my worst memory. I kept crying for days.

My father was murdered when I was two. Duane, even though he was only a year and 18 days my elder, he became a father figure to me. I would have done anything for my brother - I loved him so much.

Death is a fearful thing.

In a close-knit community like Jasper, every loss feels personal.