Quotes About Grief

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!

We die as often as we lose a friend.

Death is mighty, and is no one's friend.

The death of a friend is equivalent to the loss of a limb.

You've got to think of the fine times you had with your mate, not the moment of his perishin'. Every tear you shed now only wets his windin' sheet and disturbs his rest

My mother, father, stepmother and surrogate mother have all died of cancer; my best friend has got terminal cancer and at least five of my other friends have had cancer but survived it.

I, first of all, felt a great sense of loss, a sense of condolence for the friends that I had that were killed in that, for the loved ones.

When one has lost a friend one's eyes should be neither dry nor streaming. Tears, yes, there should be, but not lamentation.

He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness.

Grief and disappointment are like hate: they make men ugly with self-pity and bitterness. And how selfish they make us too.

All living things eventually die. It's unavoidable. But as long as you remember, it will live on in your heart forever.

When someone you love dies, you never quite get over it. You just slowly learn how to go on without them. But always keeping them tucked safely in your heart.

Absence and death are the same - only that in death there is no suffering.

The way you feel about somebody who was dead was different from how you feel about somebody who was alive. You could always love somebody who was dead, and you never had to worry about how that person felt about you. That person wasn't going to get mad at you if you didn't look for her box over the weekend. But a living person was going to get mad if you didn't show up.

Memory is the sense of loss, and loss pulls us after it.

Tu rostro está aquí: cómo nos mira y cómo lo miramos. Te fuiste sin decir adiós. Nadie te sabe, todos te añoran

When he had died, the duchess had prayed nightly to God to send her down a personality, for she had become unused to thinking any individual thought or taking any individual action.

This is your body, your greatest gift, pregnant with wisdom you do not hear, grief you thought was forgotten, and joy you have never known.

I have lost things I will never stop missing.

How arrogant to believe we are in control of what happens to the people we love, good or bad, when there's this giant, teeming universe of forces at work out there: biology, society, economics, physics, grief, greed, the Spanish Inquisition, meanness, illness, drugs, love, weather, accidents, randomness. Do you see what I mean?

What if grief isn't only missing people and being sad? That's how we usually think about it. But what if it's just -- reckoning with their being gone and with knowing they're never coming back?

She could imagine sustaining certain emotions at that pitch for that long—love absolutely, grief probably, guilt maybe—but hatred was exhausting and gave so little back.

Nothing's worse than saying goodbye. It's a little like dying.

If you have a dog, you will most likely outlive it; to get a dog is to open yourself to profound joy and, prospectively, to equally profound sadness.