Quotes About Grief

her old friends. Later, when they had a few minutes alone, she mentioned to Ben that tomorrow would be a difficult day for Lucy. 'God only knows how she'll cope when she goes to the churchyard and sees little Jamie's grave. It's bound to bring it all back with a vengeance.' Ben had few doubts. 'Your mother will cope like she always does,' he assured her. 'She's the strongest, most determined woman I

I have been at the bedsides of the dying, who looked puzzled at their family's grief as they left a world in which they had never felt at home.

People do sometimes change, of course. Habits, allegiances, dreams are all alterable, but only under extraordinary pressure - like great love, fear, grief. More often, people don't change. A girl who never missed a day of work does not suddenly decide to stay home in bed, for no good reason.

She would go away deep into the green and white and yellow countryside, and smell the may and lie in the grass and feel the world turning on its axis, and remember that it was a very large world, and that College griefs were mild and bitter but soon over and that in the Scale of Things they were undeniably Very Small Beer.

That was the way with grief: it left you alone for months together until you thought that you were cured, and then without warning it blotted out the sunlight.

Men mourn for what they have lost women for what they ain't got.

It's one thing to give yourself permission to grieve. It's another to let loss define your life. If you let the loss become more important than everything that went before, you make everything that went before meaningless.

He had lost his child; he knew how fast things could spin out of control. He knew a person could lose anything in half a heartbeat.

The wold was full of us, the leftovers and the leavers, the bereaved and the broken.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief. Aeschylus

If your child actually dies, everyone will feel sorry for you. If your child stops talking to you, everyone will judge you. At least that's what it feels like.

Don't you find," he said, "judging from his picture, that his eyes are full of tears and that his lips are sad with a secret sorrow?

I didn't want to go inside, to nod at condolences, to taste that mixture of casseroles and grief.

How many tears could one body hold? How many could she spill before she drowned in them?

Because it wasn't just the death of a sweet little beast we were marking—it was the death of what we thought we'd been doing, where we'd thought we were living, the death of being able to believe anymore in our innocence and the existence of goodness around us.

Of course it was all just whistling in the dark, but sometimes she would conclude by saying that despite their clumsy grief and all the lost and puzzling years that still lay ahead of them, the earth was no less beautiful.

If I should go before the rest of you Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone, Nor when I'm gone speak in a Sunday voice But be the usual selves that I have known. Weep if you must, Parting is hell, But life goes on, So sing as well.

Some family's boat capsized at Lake Winnipesaukee the day before and now they were looking for the father's body.

He himself did not eat. I had been hungry, but sitting there now, at the table with the two of them, it felt as crude to chew or swallow as it would have to munch on popcorn at a baby's christening, or lick an ice-cream cone while your friend told you his dog died. I shouldn't be here was how I felt.

The older you get, the more bad things happen," he said. "Good ones, too. People you care about start dying. There's no getting around it.

The people she used to have, with whom she might have discussed losing her parents, were the parents she'd lost. But the larger truth was that she couldn't have talked to them about it anyway. Martin and Vivian had died that night, but they had been largely absent forever.

Some family's boad capsized at Lake Winnipesaukee the day before and now they were looking for the father's body.

The Ache of Autumn in Us There is a season for everything, a time for giving birth, a time for dying; a time for tears, a time for laughter; a time for mourning, a time for dancing. . . . —Ecclesiastes 3:1,2,4 The trees grow more restless; October wind weaves through them; they shake their arms in dismay as if to fight the coming cold and the grief of leaves going. Autumn air does a heart-dance on branches already gone barren; the misty air clings to golden leaves

El llanto es un perro inmenso, que va mordiendo por dentro mientras no sale, y deja vacíos detrás, abismos de llenado incierto.