Quotes About Grief

I've joined the grief group because . . . well, because I sort of did a crazy thing. I drove my Honda through our garage door.

He is not coming back. And it hurt.It hurt until she was a mass of pain,worse than it had been when she thought he was dead. More all consuming. Ravaging her insides.

Oh yeah, by the way, baby. I'm your husband. You know, the one that died? The one that wouldn't come back to you for six fucking years. Yeah, she'd accept that easily enough. Bullshit.

Ghost Stories: Visits from the Deceased" December 2, 2008), the University of Goteborg found that over 80 percent of elderly people experienced hallucinations of their partner within a month after their passing. Almost

How long shall I harbor sorrow in my soul, grief in my heart day after day? Look, answer me, O Lord, my God! — Ps. 13:3-4

It is unacceptable, all the stunned and anxious missing a person is asked to endure in life. It is not to be endured, not really.

Amber was past tense. We were covering her inanimate face in the white sheet of was.

You reach a point," she wrote me once, "where you cannot cry anymore, and you look around you at people you know, at people your own age, and they're not crying either. Something has been taken. And they are emptier. And they are grateful.

Someday, like everybody, this man you truly love like no other is going to die. No matter how much you love him, you cannot save him. No matter how much you love: nothing, no one, lasts.

Years later, when they were killed in a car crash on the Farm to Market Road, and the Nell-that-never-lived died with them, Olena, numbly rearranging the letters of her own name on the envelopes of the sympathy cards she received, discovered what the letters spelled: Olena; Alone.

At all the funerals for love, love had its neat trick of making you mourn it so much, it reappeared. Popped right up from the casket. Or, if it didn't reappear itself, it sent a relative of startling resemblance, a thin and charming twin, which you took home with you to fatten and cradle, nuzzle and scold.

Blank is to heartache as forest is to bench.

There are times, I declared, when I believe the dead haunt us because we love them too little.

You don't quit loving somebody just on account of they're dead.

There is only one thing worse than losing the one you love, and that is losing them without knowing why. If you are a dog, then your master is like a god to you, and the pain of losing him is greater still.

The dead can read tears.

All of my joys have been pulled out of my mouth like teeth. All my home is nothing but sadness and silence and ruin and memory. I have been reduced, I am my own ghost, all my own beauty and youth have shrilled away, there are no illusions of happiness to impel me. Life is a prison of poverty and aborted dreams, it is nothing but a slow progress to my place beneath the soil.

A time comes when you are all alone...when you've come to the end of everything that can happen to you. It's the end of the world, even grief, your own grief, doesn't answer you anymore, and you have to retrace your steps, to go back among people, it makes no difference who.

This Indian wife you have... - Had. She's dead. - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up an unhappy memory. - I can't remember anything unhappy about Destarte.

My dog, Pugsy, was hit by a car

nothing remained but loneliness and grief…

Laurie felt just then that his heart was entirely broken and the world a howling wilderness.

It is often said that there should be no death or grief in children's stories. It is not wise to dwell on the dark and sad side of these things; but they have also a bright and lovely side, and since even the youngest, dearest, and most guarded child cannot escape some knowledge of the great mystery, is it not well to teach them in simple, cheerful ways that affection sweetens sorrow, and a lovely life can make death beautiful?

Poor Buttercup was not in a very good mood; for she had been lately bereft of her calf, and mourned for the little thing most dismally. Just now she regarded all mankind as her enemies (and I do not blame her), so when the matadore came prancing towards her with the red handkerchief flying at the end of his long lance, she threw up her head, and gave a most appropriate Moo!.