Quotes About Grief

All of those messy Christmases, each a perfect gem, all gone, all turned to ash.

And how had she felt during those first few excruciatingly unfolding hours? What had filled her brain, her heart, to replace all those petty concerns? Terror. Despair. Grief. Horror. Agony. Turmoil. Heartbreak. Fear. All those words, all so melodramatic, yet all so insufficient.

Now that even the cat was gone, though he'd made a big effort to stay alive for her and lasted until he was almost twenty-one.

I've lost someone, too. And there were no rules for how to deal with the death of someone you loved. You had to accept that the loss would always stay with you, like a reminder note pinned to the inside of your jacket. But there were still opportunities for happiness. Even joy.

She heard the trace of fear in his voice. The fear that a small boy must have felt when every woman he loved had disappeared from his life, swept away by a merciless fever. She didn't know how to reassure him, or how to console his long-ago grief.

I had to let go of him. But I knew that as long as I lived, I would feel the phantompain of his absence.

Kevin Williamson and I wrote a show about loss and grief that just so happened to have vampires in it.

I'd been drifting and in a very self-destructive bent ever since my mother died and as soon as I dealt with the grief, for the first time in 10 years, I had clarity and I realized: 'I need to make a movie, now, cause if I don't make it now, I might never do it.' That's what pushed me forward, and I immediately moved to Vancouver.

I had always thought of myself as fairly tough and fairly strong and fairly able to cope with anything. And then I had a series of personal losses. My mother died. A relationship that I was in came to end, and a variety of other things went awry.

I've had various people close to me die, and I don't necessarily find the idea of death purely depressing.

My father died when I was 11. He was a vaudeville comedian. He worked in one movie, 'Ladies of the Chorus,' as Marilyn Monroe's father.

Since Beau's death, I'm definitely shattered. I feel like a piece of china that's been glued back together again. The cracks may be imperceptible-but they're there. Look closely, and you can see the glue holding me together, the precarious edges that vein through my heart. I am not the same. I feel it every day.

I was learning 'Changes' at the time that my mom was sick and she was leaving me. And those last verses in that song, they really struck my soul, totally.

Even if she loved him with all her heart, it would still be the love of a dead woman.

Concha ölümümü öÄŸrenince aÄŸlayacakt?. Aylarca içinden yaÅŸamak isteÄŸi gelmeyecekti. Ama ölecek olan bendim. ...

At the age of twenty, without experience or advice, my mother was torn between two moribund creatures. Her marriage of convenience found its truth in sickness and mourning... Upon the death of my father, Anne-Marie and I awoke from a common nightmare. I got better. But we were both victims of a misunderstanding: she returned lovingly to the child she had never left; I regained consciousness in the lap of a stranger.

Rather than see me or have me touch it again, it died.

Seven pounds, nine shillings and sixpence turned out to be the value they'd put on Arthur's life. I sat alone at the kitchen table, and I think that was the moment I knew I'd never see my husband again.

SHE ONLY stopped screaming when she died. It was then that he started to scream. The

Grief is natural,' she said. 'Overcoming it is a matter of choice.

Regret, already sogging me down, burst its dam. It seeped into my legs, it pooled in my heart.

The window was still open," Mr Lisbon said. "I don't think we'd ever remembered to shut it. It was all clear to me. I knew I had to close that window or else she'd go on jumping out of it forever.

And in some of the houses, people were getting old and sick and were dying, leaving others to grieve. It was happening all the time, unnoticed, and it was the thing that really mattered. What really mattered in life, what gave it weight, was death.

that since Cecilia's suicide, the Lisbons could hardly wait for night to forget themselves in sleep.