Quotes About Grief

He sighed and shook his head slowly. 'And there will be no bringing back the light once it has gone.

I took him by the arm to steady him. He opened his eyes slowly, the bright golden gleam now darkened with pain and sorrow. "Morgian!' he uttered, his voice strangled with grief. "It was Morgian. . .

Great Light, Mover of all that is moving and at rest, be my Journey and my far Destination, be my Want and my Fulfilling, be my Sowing and my Reaping, be my glad Song and my stark Silence. Be my Sword and my strong Shield, be my Lantern and my dark Night, be my everlasting Strength and my piteous Weakness. Be my Greeting and my parting Prayer, be my bright Vision and my Blindness, be my Joy and my sharp Grief, be my sad Death and my sure Resurrection!

Grief helps you come to grips with the loss of a loved one. Guilt helps you make better moral decisions or bring you to apologise for a wrongdoing. In proper doses, these types of negative emotions are necessary and healthy.

When my mother passed away several years ago—well, wait a minute. Actually, she didn't 'pass away.' She died. Something about that verb, 'to pass away' always sounds to me as if someone just drifted through the wallpaper. No, my mother did not pass away. She definitely died.

Most forms of rage, after all, are only sloppy cloaks for grief.

Vonnegut had seen the worst of human conduct and refused to lie about the sort of trouble we were in, but who had not allowed his doubt to curdle into cynicism, who, for all his dark prognostication, was a figure of tremendous hope. The evidence was in his books, which performed the greatest feat of alchemy known to man: the conversion of grief into laughter by means of courageous imagination. Like any decent parent, he had made the astonishing sorrow of the examined life bearable.

You killed two of our team. Mike Shaffer was my friend; I'm godfather to his kid. Shaffer's family lives with your mistake every day.

Go fuck yourself," she spat back. "Who the hell are you to criticize me? Will my weeping bring back the dead? Will my guilt? I came in here because my room is next door and I heard you screaming. Next time, I won't bother." Jonas grabbed her arm as she went for the door. "Wait. I'm sorry—" "Leave me alone." "Celeste, please . . . My brain's fried, give me a break.

Of course, it's a little late for a heart to heart when one of the hearts is half a cup of ash.

gathered around him, Jack Cash passed away. The next day the body lay in an open

At the age of twenty, I failed to grasp the difference between guilt, which can almost always be atoned for, and grief, which can only be borne.

Shaylene knew of three children in Norwalk besides Lolek who came down with the fever during the past few years. One of those children, a four-year-old girl, tragically died because of it.

You must understand the pain and grief of losing someone is nothing more than a function of survival.

The only reason death is a bad thing is because it is bad for the living.

There are four conditions that can either block or distort spiritual messages, making it more difficult to discern whether the message is coming from Spirit or is ego-generated. These are grief, pain, selfpity, and aggression without cause.

When one loves all things of the world, when one has that gift of joy, it is not the armour against grief that you might think it to be. Such a person stands balanced on the edge of sadness – there is no other way for it, because to love as he does is to see clearly.

Grief isolates, and every ritual, every gesture, every embrace, is a hopeless effort to break through that isolation. None of it works. The forms crumble and dissolve. To face death is to stand alone.

While the innocent yearned to lose their innocence, those who had already done so in turn envied the innocent, and knew grief in what they had lost. Between the two, no exchange of truths was possible.

Why do the survivors remain anonymous—as if cursed—while the dead are revered? Why do we cling to what we lose while we ignore what we still hold?

Braven Tooth, you remember the last time I played-' 'That was the last time?' 'It was, and there's been a lot who've fallen since then. Friends. People we grew to love, and now miss, like holes in the heart.' He drew a deep breath, then continued, 'It's been waiting, inside, for a long time. So, my old, old friends, let's hear some names.

He'd seen enough of life to know he wouldn't miss it much. His only regret was the grief his death would level upon those who cared for him. Venes

The saddest face I ever saw on Martin Luther King was at the funeral of the four little girls slain in Birmingham, Alabama.

When I was 19 years old, both of my parents died in the same year; my mom of cancer and my dad in a car accident. Through the next two or three years and a series of bad decisions - all my own, I might add - I ended up literally homeless, before that was even a word. I even slept occasionally under a pier on the Gulf Coast.