Quotes About Grief

And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper. I have an affection for it, for it was the offspring of happy days, when death and grief were but words, which found no true echo in my heart.

Alas! he is cold, he cannot answer me.

By the sacred earth on which I kneel, by the shades that wander near me, by the deep and eternal grief that I feel, I swear; and by thee, O Night, and the spirits that preside over thee, to pursue the demon who caused this misery, until he or I shall perish in mortal conflict.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we say every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed for ever—that the brightness of a beloved eye can be extinguished, and the sound of a voice heard.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed for ever.

when you speak of new ties and fresh affections, think you that any can replace those who are gone?

The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in the excess of grief.

It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have been extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.

About half an hour afterwards he attempted again to speak, but was unable; he pressed my hand feebly, and his eyes closed for ever, while the irradiation of a gentle smile passed away from his lips.

Our house was the house of mourning.

My mother was dead, but we had still duties which we ought to perform; we must continue our course with the rest and learn to think ourselves fortunate whilst one remains whom the spoiler has not seized.

The time at length arrives when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity; and the smile that plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a sacrilege, is not banished.

Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circles no grief or folly ventures.

If grief kills us not, we kill it. Not that I cease to grieve; for each hour, revealing to me how excelling and matchless the being was, who once was mine, but renews the pang with which I deplore my alien state upon earth. But such is God's will; I am doomed to a divided existence, and I submit. Meanwhile I am human; and human affections are the native, luxuriant growth of a heart, whose weakness it is, too eagerly, and too fondly, to seek objects on whom to expend its yearning.

The world will never be again to me as it was; there was a life and freshness in it that is lost to me.

William's mother, dead these six years. He spoke of her with love, but without grief. Six years, and whatever the loss, happiness steals back.

Silence then, and the scent of apple trees, and the nightmare sense of grief that comes when a man wakes again to feel a loss he has forgotten in sleep.

Some three years after the end of the war my father died. He died as he had lived, quietly and with more thought for others than for himself.

It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and whose existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed for ever - that the brightness of a beloved eye can be extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar, and dear to the ear, can be hushed, never more to be heard.

She was no longer that happy creature who in earlier youth wandered with me on the banks of the lake and talked with ecstasy of our future prospects. The first of those sorrows which are sent to wean us from the earth had visited her, and its dimming influence quenched her dearest smiles.

The time at length arrives when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity

whom we saw every day, and whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed forever—that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished, and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard.

He can no longer be a fit subject for pity; the survivors are the greatest sufferers, and for them time is the only consolation.