Quotes About Grief

When a mother dies, a house becomes a forest. My children, children, know that I am in the trees. True love means you won't find me.

The way grief is really about future absence.

Beauty is ever to the lonely mind a shadow fleeting; she is never plain. She is a visitor who leaves behind the gift of grief, the souvenir of pain.

Then, with an enormous rush of meadow-filled wind, the green candle went out, and my best friend died.

When I turned 18, I lost my best friend to a car accident.

My mother's death brought me to my knees. She was my hero, my role model, my very best friend. I spoke to her every single day of my life. I really tried hard when I grew up to make her proud of me.

You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us?

A person who hasn't grieved a significant loss has unfinished business inside and can cause others great grief as a result.

Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things.

My husband used to take care of the business part of this, and after he died I found I wasn't really any good at it. I hate remembering who owes me what and bugging them if they haven't paid me.

In real life, one of my friends was killed in a car accident during our sophomore year.

I am so sick of reading about another car bomb, another suicide bomber, another 10, 20, 30, 70, 100 people dead in a day, both Americans and Iraqis.

Today I saw a car crush my little dog under it's wheel.

Ironically my brother died in a car accident shortly after Airbag was recorded. He's not an identical twin so I didn't care.

Death says a million words that the heart can't pen.

My dad died when I was 23. His death was sudden and shocking - the result of a car crash - and I never got to say goodbye.

Don't think about it. However it was it is over now. However it was or whereever it was. He is not lying there any more. He is nowhere now. Nowhere at all. Don't think about it.

Is nausea always a manifestation of grief? Who am I to know? I have never been thus before. Grief-stricken. Stricken is right; it is as though you had been felled. Knocked to the ground; pitched out of life and into something else.

Elaine turned to her father in her distress. 'Father will you give me permission to ride after Sir Lancelot? I must reach him. Otherwise I will go out of my mind with grief.' 'Go, good daughter. Rescue him, if you can.' So she made herself ready for the journey, weeping all the time. Gawain himself rode back to the court of the king in London" –The Fair Maid of Astolat

She meant I was hungover. I had been slaughtered, legless, trolleyed, slashed, shredded, plastered, polluted, pissed. I thought, I do love my country's relationship with alcohol. How would I ever exist in the United States? I suppose I would have grief counselling instead. (77)

The thing that eventually strikes you about the death of someone you love is the permanence. When that hits, there is an overpowering sense of loneliness and aloneness. Those wounds do not remain raw, not forever, but they do remain.

A knot of women bursts through the glass door behind us. They slump onto the kerb, weeping and rocking on their haunches. Some have babies tied to their backs in white crocheted shawls. Their grief is raw and fierce, unmediated. A couple of men in ragged jackets stand by, embarrassed and self-conscious, and a gaggle of bewildered toddlers with mango-smeared mouths look up with wide almond eyes.

Anyway, they took her body to McBurney's Funeral Home in Motley. They'll be planting her tomorrow.

That's it. I'm asking you, I'm really asking you—how is it possible that we aren't in a permanent state of mourning?