Quotes About Grief

All that time, all that time, I thought I was missing Jude." And the loss pressed down on her chest and came up into her throat. "We was girls together," she said as though explaining something. "O Lord, Sula," she cried, "girl, girl, girlgirlgirl." It was a fine cry—loud and long—but it had no bottom and it had no top, just circles and circles of sorrow.

Carefully they replaced the soil and covered the entire grave with uprooted grass. Neither one had spoken a word.

God take what He would, she said. And He did, and He did, and He did.

Solitude, competitiveness and grief are the unavoidable lot of a writer only when there is no organization or network to which he can turn.

They held hands and knew that only the coffin would lie in the earth; the bubbly laughter and the press of fingers in the palm would stay aboveground forever.

She looked around for a place to be. A small place. The closet? No. Too dark. The bathroom. It was both small and bright, an she wanted to be in a very small, very bright place. Small enough to contain her grief. Bright enough to throw into relief the dark things that cluttered her.

She looked around for a place to be. A small place. The closet? No. Too dark. The bathroom. It was both small and bright, and she wanted to be in a very small, very bright place. Small enough to contain her grief. Bright enough to throw into relief the dark things that cluttered her.

Fue una sombra la mayor parte de mi vida, una presencia que señalaba su propia ausencia, o tal vez la mía. Quién soy yo sin ella, esa niña desnutrida de ojos tristes que esperan. Cómo temblaba cuando nos escondimos de las paladas. Le tapé la cara, los ojos, con la esperanza de que no hubiera visto el pie que asomaba de la tumba

One by fire, one by water, two of what he had so intensely loved gone, he thought. He couldn't lose a third.

I don't miss you anymore adam rather i miss the emotion that your dying produced a feeling so strong it defined me while it erased you leaving only your absence for me to live in like the silence of the japanese gong that is more thrilling than whatever sound may follow.

The deceased was the tragic hero, the survivors the innocent victims; there was the omnipresence of the deity, strophe and antistrophe of the chorus of mourners led by the preacher. There was grief over the waste of life, the stunned wonder at the ways of God, and the restoration of order in nature at the graveyard.

He stood there at the edge of the orchard looking like he would never be whole again.

There's nothing good... behind those tears.

When grief develops and grows, the suffering at the heart of it changes, too. It becomes less acute, less raw and fiery. I'm not sure it diminishes, but it somehow becomes diffused across the memories that surround the loss at the heart of it. It seems less concentrated, and therefore more bearable.

Unable are the Loved to die, For Love is Immortality … EMILY DICKINSON

It's always hard to lose somebody. It leaves a hole in you heart that never grows back.

Jenny dies in my arms. Goes to sleep, doesn't wake up. My tears taste of blood.

We all have that burning question about what happens if we lose somebody we love, especially if we lose them tragically. We wonder what fear was going on, we wonder if we could have reached out and touched them, held their hand, looked in their eyes, been there.

Sometimes we simply can't let go because we are so habituated to our fears, resentments, and grief.

Grief is born. Grief matures. Grief passes. Despair, on the other hand, which arrives in an instant, ferments into depression. And although depression was months away, at least, already he felt himself not caring.

But this was the first time someone he loved would be gone forever. He didn't like to think about the forever part. But when he did, which was often, the only place he wanted to be was home.

32 Deciding to leave home     41 Life Events Scale for Children The death of a parent   

Failure to communalize grief can imprison a person in endless swinging between rage and emotional deadness as a permanent way of being in the world.

in his book Achilles in Vietnam, former Veterans Affairs psychiatrist Dr. Jonathan Shay warns about what happens, to both soldiers and society, when those stories are never told. "We can never fathom the soldier's grief if we do not know the human attachment which battle nourishes and then amputates," he says. "Failure to communalize grief can imprison a person in endless swinging between rage and emotional deadness as a permanent way of being in the world.