Quotes About Grief

Jealousy is a grievous passion that jealously seeks what causes grief.

Animosity killed the elephant.

horrible que la gente que uno conoce se muera, aunque la conozca poco, no se comprende que ya no exista quien ha existido.

Se la echaría en falta, por costumbre más que por aflicción

No fue hasta bastante tiempo después cuando descubrí que las pesadillas no eran por culpa de su muerte, sino porque yo no había aceptado que algún día me tocará a mí. Mi subconsciente no tenía miedo por haber perdido a Matt, sino por la idea de que algún día se perderá a sí mismo y dejaré de existir.

Llora por un padre que siempre fue tolerante y compasivo y que adoraba a sus hijos. Brotan lágrimas secas de una herida que, intuye, nunca cicatrizará.

De la alcoba salía un olor a carne quemada tan intenso que casi le hizo vomitar. Al pie de la cama había un cadáver que aún humeaba. De la mano que intentara empuñar a Zemal quedaba tan solo quedaban tan solo los huesos de dos dedos ; el resto eran cenizas.

grieving was a human process with known stages and unknown timetables.

The bones came jumbled together from the kitchen... there was no way of telling my parents from my Brothers and Sisters. I put them all in the same urn. Sometimes, late at night, I hold them in my hands and cry.

Sorrow never heals. We simply take comfort in the fact that our pain seems to fade.

Grief that is dazed and speechless is out of fashion: the modern woman mourns her husband loudly and tells you the whole story of his death, which distresses her so much that she forgets not the slightest detail about it.

Grief at the absence of a loved one is happiness compared to life with a person one hates.

In order to weep, I had descended to the realm of the dead themselves, to their secret chambers, led by the invisible but soft hands of birds down stairways which were folded up again as I advanced. I displayed my grief in the friendly fields of death, far from men: within myself.

I, his mistress, mad with grief, shall follow him...I shall share his glory. You speak of widowhood and deny me the white gown - the mourning of queens.

certainly the only family member she ever saw). She could recall doing the things she supposed most other children did—playing in dirt, looking at pictures—without any accompanying grief or anger

We endured. Hour after hour we endured, while inside us life's scream ran on, unstoppable. When the stars began imperceptibly to fade, we were still there, still breathing, and our father was still dead beside us, his face both sharp and slumped.

But whether I touch him or I run, whether I'm dreaming or I'm awake, on his birthday or on all other days, my whole life has been contaminated with the fact that he is dead.

But whether I touch him or I run, whether I'm dreaming or I'm awake, on his birthday or on all other days, my whole life has been contaminated with the fact that he is dead.

Anger wishes that all mankind had only one neck; love, that it had only one heart; grief, two tear-glands; and pride, two bent knees.

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

There are always two deaths, the real one and the one people know about.

Wind begins to whip up the sand. The tide has gone out so far that swimmers look like tiny dots on the horizon. The children run to stretch their legs on the beach once more before leaving, and Sylvie and I remain alone and silent, her hand squeezing my inert fingers. Behind dark glasses that reflect a flawless sky, she softly weeps over our shattered lives.

Why is the measure of love loss?

If I die, I will wait for you, do you understand? No matter how long. I will watch from beyond to make sure you live every year you have to its fullest, and then we'll have so much to talk about when I see you again… (Bones)