Quotes About Grief

Loving her was heaven that turned to hell when she died.

You lost your wife, Douglas. My heartbreaks for you, it really does. But I lose my husband every day, all over again. And I don't even get to mourn.

August 2nd, 2006 is just a taste of what war is. We lost two people that day. There are companies, battalions that have lost half, most of their unit. You look at the numbers from WW2 or Vietnam, it's astounding.

En áls er dan ergens in moest worden berust, dan toch in de wetenschap dat zij eendrachtig waren in hun rouw; dat zij eindelijk van elkaar wisten dat zij niet treurden om de afloop en het scheiden, maar al hadden getreurd vanaf het eerste begin. Die synchroniciteit was troostend.

It is necessary to be strong in the face of death, because death is intrinsic to life. It is for this reason that I tell my students: aim to be the person at your father's funeral that everyone, in their grief and misery, can rely on. There's a worthy and noble ambition: strength in the face of adversity.

Depressed people, for example, can start feeling useless and burdensome, as well as grief-stricken and pained. This makes them withdraw from contact with friends and family. Then the withdrawal makes them more lonesome and isolated, and more likely to feel useless and burdensome. Then they withdraw more. In this manner, depression spirals and amplifies.

Na verdade, ficamos mais negativos após uma perda de determinado tamanho do que nos sentimos bem com um ganho de tamanho idêntico. A dor é mais potente do que o prazer, e a ansiedade mais forte do que a esperança.

What shall I do with my infant's death? Hold my other loved ones and heal their pain.

Grief must be a reflection of love. It is perhaps the ultimate proof of love. Grief is an uncontrollable manifestation of your belief that the lost person's existence, limited and flawed as it might have been, was worthwhile, despite the limitations and flaws even of life itself

The human race has been dealing with loss and death forever. We are the descendants of those who could manage it.

To discuss an event, particularly something emotional, like a death or serious illness, is to slowly choose what to leave behind.

Or maybe...their biggest fear is that they will get close to you again, and you'll go and drop dead.

Decían que el tiempo lo curaba todo. Y era cierto. Y era falso. Los vivos no se curan. Los vivos no olvidan. Solo se recolocan. Aprenden a vivir de otra forma, aceptando el dolor como parte del nuevo presente y el nuevo futuro.

Vanda ficou só com o cadáver. Quincas Berro Dágua sorria e o dedo grande do pé direito parecia crescer no buraco da meia.

Mas ele guarda seu segredo. É uma coisa tão grande demais encontrar na terra uma mãe que já morreu. Dalva não o entenderia.

At a period when Literature was wont to attribute the grief of living exclusively to the mischances of disappointed love or the jealousy of adulterous deceptions, he had said not a word of these childish maladies, but had sounded those more incurable, more poignant and more profound: wounds that are inflicted by satiety, disillusion and contempt in ruined souls tortured by the present, disgusted with the past, terrified and desperate of the future.

Ah, when one has not the gift of rendering one's grief superbly and transforming it into literary or musical passages which weep magnificently, the best thing is to keep still about it.

Depois tem mais. Tão cedo não vão cortar o seu pé de Laranja Lima. Quando o cortarem, você estará longe e nem sentirá. Agarrei-me soluçando as seus joelhos. - Não adianta, Papai. Não adianta... E, olhando o seu rosto que também se encontrava cheio de lágrimas, murmurei como um morto: - Já cortaram, Papa, faz mais de uma semana que cortaram o meu pé de Laranja Lima.

You can kill someone in your heart. Stop loving them. And one day they die.

Evet, yapaca??m bunu. BaÅŸlad?m bile. Öldürmek, Buck Jones'un tabancas?n? al?p güm diye patlatmak deÄŸil! Hay?r. Onu yüreÄŸimde öldüreceÄŸim, art?k sevmeyerek... Ve bir gün büsbütün ölecek.

Do you remember that night, that stormy night when you, seeing me alone and crying next to my mother's lifeless body, came toward me and put your hand on my shoulder, the hand that for so long you refused to let me hold, and said to me: 'You have lost your mother, I ever had one.' And you cried with me. [...] Could I ever forget you?

Sollocé inconsolablemente por lo que se me moría, antes de vivirlo. Sin saberlo, creyendo que lloraba por mí, en realidad lloraba por los dos más agrios dolores del hombre: el amor y el adiós.

In my Lucia's absence Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden; I am ten times undone, while hope, and fear, And grief, and rage and love rise up at once, And with variety of pain distract me.

When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow;