Quotes About Grief

Happiness in nature is a double happiness; sorrow in nature is a half sorrow!

What happens when you have great grief in your life is the arteries of that heart begins to spasms down, just literally squeezes down like this because you're feeling the tension of your life and then the heart muscle itself will also begin - to get stressed out.

As it says in Ecclesiastes there is a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance. The wheel has turned and the season of grief has passed. I am Lazarus resurrected from an emotional grave. Like Lazarus, I suspect I will always be aware of the grave, but still I say, let the dance of life go on.

But grief makes a monster out of us sometimes . . . and sometimes you say and do things to the people you love that you can't forgive yourself for.

A piece of me is gone," she told me once while we were bra shopping. "I think we're made up of all these different pieces and every time someone goes, you're left with less of yourself.

But grieving people are selfish. They won't let you comfort them and they say you don't understand and they make you feel useless when all your life you've been functional to them.

Then he holds her and for a moment I hear total silence; that totally silent part of a cry that announces that the most horrible grief is going to follow. And it does, and he's muffling it, but I can hear and I want someone to come over and jab her with a sedative because its pitch pierces my soul.

Someone asked us later, "Didn't you wonder why no one came across you sooner?" Did I wonder? When you see your parents zipped up in black body bags on the Jellicoe Road like they're some kind of garbage, don't you know? Wonder dies.

But she stepped forward and placed a finger to his lips and there it was before him. The greatest prayer to the gods he could muster with a heart so broken. Don't let me outlive this woman. Don't let me exist one moment without her.

You don't die. You just... get really angry and then after you're angry you hurt a lot and then the best thing is that one day you remember something she said or did and you laugh instead of crying.

Silence is not just about secrecy, Your Majesty. It is grief and it is shame.

I wish everyone would stop crying, Tom. Uncle Joe would be so angry about it." But she's crying herself now. "He'd be so angry at us, Tom, for crying so much when all he did was laugh.

I think we're made up of all these different pieces and every time someone goes, you're left with less of yourself.

If something happened to me, whose face will be on the front page of the paper begging for me? Is a person worth more because they have someone to grieve for them?

You can know someone all your life, like your parents or family, but I'll tell you this, Ned. There's an expression on their face, or a tone in their voice, or a way they walk, that you've never ever seen before. Like they've kept it hidden. Until their brother dies. Or their son. I remember those days and they were like these strangers and I wanted to say, Who are you people?

They always prided themselves on looking youthful. "Forty's the new thirty," they'd joke. Until heartbreak and grief enter your life, and then forty's the new one hundred.

The grief hits her hard one day. the way it can't be controlled. The way that yesterday can be good and so can the day before, and so can the week and fortnight before that, but then today comes and she's back to zero. How she can't type words into her computer or even press the in-box for her mail. The effort it takes to walk. How words can't form in her mouth and how her blood feels paralyzed.

Phaedra of Alonso's death was a never-ending pain that gnawed at his insides. It made him a prisoner in his own cottage.

My father took one hundred and thirty-two minutes to die. I counted. It happened on the Jellicoe Road. The prettiest road I'd ever seen, where the trees made breezy canopies like a tunnel to Shangri-la.

But it was Finnikin he tried not to look at, except her heard something come from him that sound like some wild animal and then Finnikin said her name and as long as Froi was alive he had never heard a word said with such pain and he knew he never would again.

Part of Quintana had left this world and Froi knew that part of him was gone as well.

At times it's like sadness has planted itself on her face, refusing to leave, an overwhelming sadness, and sometimes I see despair there, too.

It's all rather political, mourning is.

Someone asked us later, "Didn't you wonder why no one came across you sooner?" Did I wonder? When you see your parents zipped up in black body bags on the Jellicoe Road like they're some kind of garbage, don't you know? Wonder dies.