Quotes About Grief

He put his arms about himself as if he were cold. "I do not know who to be without him.

Emma had always thought of grief as a claw. The claw of a massive monster you couldn't see, that reached down out of the sky and seized hold of you, punching out your breath, leaving only a pain you couldn't wriggle away from or avoid. You just had to endure it for as long as the claw had you in its grasp.

She knew she could not be Jem for Will. No one could. But slowly the hollow places in his heart were filling in.

And when Jace was ten years old, Valentine killed him. Michael, I mean." "That sounds like something he would do," said Luke. His tone was neutral, but there was something in his voice that made Clary look at him sideways. Did he not believe her? "Jace saw him die, " she added, as if to bolster her claim. "That's awful," said Luke. "Poor messed-up kid.

But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it. She understood why people talked about hearts "breaking"; she felt as if hers were made of cracked glass, and the shards were like tiny knives inside her chest when she breathed.

Don't make it sound like that. Like some ordinary sort of grief. It's not like that. They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite. Over. This is a fresh wound every day.

Hail and Farewell, my brother.

I watch Jace Herondale play, and I see the ghosts that rise up in the music. Don't you?" "Ghosts are memories, and we carry them because those we love do not leave the world." "Yes," she said. I just wish he were here to see this with us, just here with us one more time.

Maryse sighed."Nothing conclusive.If only the dead could talk,eh,Lucian?

What about Isabelle?" Simon asked. "Where is she?" The humor, such as it was, left Jace's expression. "She won't come out of her room," he said. "She thinks that what happened to Max was her fault. She won't even come to the funeral." "Have you tried talking to her?" "No," Jace said, "we've been punching her repeatedly in the face instead. Why, do you think that won't work?" "Just thought I'd ask." Simon's tone was mild.

Oh, God," Magnus said. "They're dead. They're all dead.

Grief makes you feel alone, but you're not. I know you don't believe in-in religion-the same way I do, but you can believe you're surrounded by people who love you, can't you?

But the soul, the spirit that made her Livvy was no longer there: It was something that had gone away to a far and untouchable place, even as Julian ran his hands over her hair again and again and begged her to wake up and look at him just one more time. High above the Council Hall, the golden clock began to chime the hour.

The heart that loves must one day grieve. Love and grief are the Goddess's twined gifts. Let the pain in, let it open your heart to compassion. Let me help you bear your grief and then may your heart ease and open to greater love. May the love that flows eternally through the universe embrace and comfort you. p.85

Selene," I said shakily, "I think he's dead." "Shhh," she said soothingly. "Poor darling. Sit down. Let me give you some tea." Tea? I thought wildly. I think I killed someone, and you're offering me tea?

One of the most painful aspects of the war was that the bereaved were left without a body to bury. Almost half the British dead were posted Missing, leaving their families with the agonized hope that they might one day return – alternating with the bitter knowledge that their remains were lost in the mud of France.

How is your woman taking this?" Warrior asked. "Her heart is on the ground." Warrior sighed. "This is bad, Hunter, very bad. Her mother? Her father? She will never forgive this." Hunter increased his pace, growing more concerned by the second that he had left Loretta alone. "She has no choice. We have said words, yes? She is my woman." "But Red Buffalo killed her parents!" "She is still my woman.

The wind brushed her cheeks, catching his name and carrying it away from her. She crossed her arms over her breasts and sobbed, her gaze fixed on the rise. She would never again look at the horizon without seeing him outlined there.

God gave us tears to wash away the pain. It's okay to cry, even if you're a guy, because there's no shame in loving people and feeling really sad when you lose them. Every tear tells the world how much you cared.

Who was the bravest: the one who sacrificed his life, or the one who stayed behind to do the mourning? And taking it a step further, who was the strongest?

She'd be dead before the memories and pain were finally gone; she knew it, accepted it, and dealt with it.

He looks troubled, then slowly nods. "I suppose I have. Grief and loss, they help you focus on what's really important. They make you more aware of all the anguish and the sorrow in the world, make you face up to it, because otherwise they lurk inside you your whole life." "So you suffered as you pursued your goal. But all of us suffer. Sorrow and anguish are knit into the fabric of life itself. No one has the market on it.

We lose those we love. Such is the nature of life.

Everyone dies, and yet it's unendurable. There is so much love inside of us. How do we become worthy of it? And, then, where does it go? A worldwide crescendo of grief, sustained day after day, and only one tiny note of it is mine.