Quotes About Grief

The greater are our affections the deeper are our afflictions, and the more we love the more we have to weep.

The process of grieving any loss is dependent upon your relationship to the person.

She had died, I just never told her. So still, we walk, eat and sleep together, in fear one day she'll come to realize it.

Even after she was gone, he passed her place each day: something white in a high window - not a face, but the white belly of a pigeon beating its wingsagainst the pane in the boarded-up house.

After she was gone, I sheathed her sword at my belt, draped her cloak over my shoulders, carried her heart in my arms, and, somehow, went on.

Then you know. You know what it's like to love someone like you love yourself and lose them.

If you've ever lost someone that you love, and I say 'love' and not 'loved' because even when they're gone, you still love them, you know that never goes away, but your life changes.

You can't learn anything from losing someone you love. Any lesson you learn from that isn't a lesson. It's a compromise with life. A lie you tell yourself.

Sorrowful tears drench the earth, rise again in the form of hope

Jack had been the love of her life and he was gone. It seemed now that there had never been bad times, though she knew that wasn't true.

Her death was a defining moment in my life. It felt like the brightest light in Gion Kobu had gone dark. Sadly, she was the last master of the musical tradition in which she had been trained. The form died with her.

But love, like a mushroom high compared with the buzz from cheap weed, outlasts grief.

What sorts of things do you google when your favorite person in the world is determined to leave it?

It's impossible to move through the stages of grief when a person is both dead and alive, the way Min is. It's like she's living permanently in an airport terminal, moving from one departure lounge to another but never getting on a plane. Sometimes I tell myself that I'd do anything for Min. That I'd do whatever was necessary for her to be happy. Except that I'm not entirely sure what that would be.

The pain of letting go of grief is just as painful or even more painful than the grief itself.

That the pain of letting go of grief is just as painful or even more painful than the grief itself. It means goodbye.

Later that evening I lay down in Min's empty bed upstairs and pulled her white sheet up over my head. I felt for my kneecaps and hip bones. I lay perfectly still, arms down, palms up. I closed my eyes and pretended I was floating in space, then at sea, then not floating at all.I hummed an old Beach Boys tune. In my room... Min had taught me how to play it on her guitar when we were kids.

She told me that the brain is built to forget things as we continue to live, that memories are meant to fade and disintegrate, that skin, so protective in the beginning because it has to be to protect our organs, saga eventually - because the organs aren't so hot anymore either - and sharp edges become blunt, that the pain of letting go of grief is just as panful or even more painful than the grief itself.

The day before the day before my father killed himself he took my hand in his and said Yoli, it feels to me as though the lights are going out. We were sitting by a fountain in a park at soon.

Death doesn't just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed, lives are changed.

But she wasn't around, and that's the thing when your parents die, you feel like instead of going in to every fight with backup, you are going into every fight alone.

Sharing tales of those we've lost is how we keep from really losing them.

I hope you never hear those words. Your mom. She died. They are different than other words. They are too big to fit in your ears. They belong to some strange, heavy, powerful language that pounds away at the side of your head, a wrecking ball coming at you again and again, until finally, the words crack a hole large enough to fit inside your brain. And in so doing, they split you apart.

When death takes your mother, it steals that word forever.