Quotes About Grief

'The Invitation' is a meditation on grief and loss carried within a suspense drama. At its core, it's about a dinner party gone horribly wrong and about the consequences of denying our pain.

No one can sustain rage for long. I am still angry and always will be. My dear son was stolen from me and his family to never return. He was killed for profit and lies. How can I not be angry? Sometimes though, the rage comes back.

Since Michael died I think I've worked constantly. Friends and colleagues are very sustaining. They're the people who get you through it... It's no good to be on your own.

I am not very relaxed about bad reviews. But I am resilient. I grieve, curse and swear, put on loud music, and get on with the next job.

There are moments when the grief comes bubbling up. The first time I saw Chris's chair empty, that was really hard. And it was hard when I started folding up some of his sweaters that I so imagine him wearing.

Obviously, losing a parent is very difficult. I miss my dad every day, but I know he would be proud to see me continuing to swim and going for another shot at the Olympics.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not.

One often calms one's grief by recounting it.

Grief is only the memory of widowed affections.

The natural effect of sorrow over the dead is to refine and elevate the mind.

I will indulge my sorrows, and give way to all the pangs and fury of despair.

Grief is a normal and natural response to loss. It is originally an unlearned feeling process. Keeping grief inside increases your pain.

There is a joy in sorrow which none but a mourner can know.

The thing about death is that it takes a while before you realize that it's never going to go away.

I still think about the letter you asked me to write. It nags at me, even though you're gone and there's no one to give it to anymore. Sometimes I work on it in my head, trying to map out the story you asked me to tell, about everything that happened this past fall and winter. It's all still there, like a movie I can watch when I want to. Which is never.

Indeed, grief is not the clear melancholy the young believe it. It is like a siege in a tropical city. The skin dries and the throat parches as though one were living in the heat of the desert; water and wine taste warm in the mouth, and food is of the substance of the sand; one snarls at one's company; thoughts prick one through sleep like mosquitoes.

To a father, when a child dies, the future dies to a child when a parent dies, the past dies.

When you have lost people like I lost my birth mom at a young age and you remember the whole process of losing her, you want to grab on to something that makes you whole.

An Elegy A thousand times must we deplore The lost will never come to life again; Even as flowing water runs away, Returning nevermore. Lady Kanin

While there were some friends who could feel the enormity of my loss and offered tremendous compassion, the world in general has little patience or empathy for loss of an animal companion. Many people were unable to fathom the level of my grief because they could not fathom that level of connection with an animal. To me this is yet another reflection of the alienation from the animal world that our culture feels.

Wat moesten we beginnen met deze zombie, die ons zo tergend herinnerde aan de Loes die we hadden verloren en die daardoor zwakkelingen van ons maakte, vervuld van heimwee en gemis? Ze was het aan ons verplicht om weer zichzelf te worden, zo niet goedschiks, dan maar kwaadschiks.

She knelt over the grave, until her nose was touching the dirt. "When you are ready to inhabit a new skin," she said, "we will be waiting for you.

He knows when she passes, a grief will rip through him unlike anything he has ever known. Preparing for it doesn't help. He just knows it will come. It is like realizing you are sailing a boat across an ocean and soon you will find the other shore—it will be just you and acres of dry, blinding white sand. There may be trees on that island, and sun, and food, but none of it will feel or taste right, because you will stand there and realize: I am alone.