Quotes About Grief

you don't feel jealous of a woman whose husband has been lost. But an unreachability, that's how she'd put it. This plump, kind-natured woman sitting on the couch surrounded by children

But there is this: Both with the discovery of David's illness, and then again with his death, it was William I called first. I think—but I don't remember—that I must have said something like "Oh William, help me." Because he did. He got my husband to a different doctor—a better one, I do believe—although there was nothing any doctor could do at that point. And then, with the death, William helped me again.

At David's service in a funeral home in the city—which was then, and is now, all a blur to me—I do remember Becka whispering to me, "Dad wishes he could sit up here with us." "He said that to you?" I asked, turning to look at her, and she nodded solemnly. Poor William, I thought.

grief is a solitary matter.

This is because my husband had died a year earlier; also I am often despondent at the end of a book tour, and this had been made worse because I no longer had David to call from the road. That was the hardest part of the tour for me: not having David to speak to each day.

At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.

Grief is a most peculiar thing; we're so helpless in the face of it. It's like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it.

Ander mensen dragen hun verdriet in hun hart. Ongezien holt dat hen vanbinnen uit. Het is mijn redding geweest dat ik mijn verdriet aan de buitenkant draag, waar het niemand kan ontgaan.

I have not moved from there to here without I think to please you, and still an everlasting funeral marches round your heart.

an everlasting funeral marches round your heart.

Unhappiness was my god.

In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.

Oh, we do not understand death, we never understand it; creatures are only truly dead when everyone else has died who knew them.

Sometimes life is truly woeful.

Ti manca ancora tua moglie?" chiese la vicepreside in ascensore. "Sì. Tyyne è morta di tumore tre anni fa. Il primo anno è stato il più difficile. Ho preso anche un cane, ma un cane non sostituisce una moglie, per quanto di razza.

What do you know about being sad?' 'I know you don't need a reason.

I had waited for the tears to stop before I called him, waited until my whole body was empty and dry, hard as a fist. But now I felt the sadness rising again in my chest.

It was probable that the widow knew more than others suspected of insanity in the Buchenau family, for there was an unsolved mystery lying half a century in the past, when Clara's uncle Hugo, a darkly moody man, had shot himself in an orchard one May morning, scattering his brains among the blossoms, and soon after, Clara's father had sunk into a deep depression and had at last to be taken to Mendota as insane, and there died.

La tristeza no desaparece, pero la desesperación debe ser contenida, pues no honra al que ha partido.

The house was an empty tank full of grief. Their empty ghosts floated everywhere they were not.

How do I live without the ones I love? Time still turns the pages of the book its burned. Place and time always on my mind. I have so much to say but your so far away.

My heart is broken... I'm lying here My thoughts are choking On you my dear...