Quotes About Grief

I lost my friend to suicide a year before I lost my father to cancer. They were both ill at the same time, and they died within fourteen months of each other, but the reaction to their illnesses and deaths could not have been more different. People rarely bring flowers to a suicide.

Because after suffering a loss, you become a ghost in your own body. You observe yourself doing things and saying things that you might not normally do or say. You need something to ground you and prove to you that you're still here. As a way of feeling something. Anything.

This is what happens when people die. They start to disappear if you don't watch it. Not all at once, but a piece here, a piece there.

Loss does that, hits you out of the blue. You can be in the car or in class or at the movies, laughing and having a good time, and suddenly it's as if someone has reached directly into the wound and squeezed with all their might.

Every forty seconds, someone in the world dies by suicide. Every forty seconds, someone is left behind to cope with the loss.

By the time I started eating- really eating- the loss was already so big it felt like I was carrying around the world. So carrying around the weight wasn't any heavier. It was trying to carry around both that got to be too much. Which is why sometimes you have to set some of it down. You can't carry all of it forever.

You can't do this to me. You were the one who lectured me about living. You were the one who said I had to get out and see what was right in front of me and make the most of it and not wish my time away and find my mountain because my mountain was waiting, and all that adds up to life. But then you leave. You can't just do that. Especially when you know what I went through losing Eleanor.

There was so much to grieve over, and so much to celebrate, she did not know which to do first, and essayed both together, like April. But her age was April, and the hopeful sunshine won.

You don't know how easy death is. It's - it's like a door. A person simply walks through it, and she's lost to you forever.

Nothing could be more heart rending than this mute and motionless dispair

The couple fell one atop of the other, struck down, finding consolation, at last, in death.

The sea with its perpetual oscillation, that obstinate swell sweeping up to the cliffs twice a day, exasperated him: it was senseless force, indifferent to his grief, wearing down the same rocks for centuries while never mourning the death of a single human being. it was too vast, too cold; and he would hurry home and shut himself indoors, to feel less insignificant, less crushed between the dual infinities of sea and sky.

Oh, Justice, what frightful despair oppresses our hearts!

The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.

Existence, after losing her, would be hell

El mundo es para mi una horrenda colección de recuerdos diciéndome que ella vivió y que la he perdido.

I got the sexton, who was digging Linton's grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it. I thought, once, I would have stayed there, when I saw her face again—it is hers yet—he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change, if the air blew on it...

I hasped the window; I combed his black long hair from his forehead; I tried to close his eyes-to extinguish, if possible, that frightful, life-like gaze of exultation, before any one else beheld it. They would not shut; they seemed to sneer at my attempts, and his parted lips and sharp, white teeth sneered too!

What have those lonely mountains worth revealing? More glory and more grief than I can tell: The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling Can centre both the worlds of Heaven and Hell.

What have those lonely mountains worth revealing? More glory and more grief than I can tell:

You say I killed you. Haunt me, then!

But the hearts that once adored me Have long forgot their vow And the friends that mustered round me Have all forsaken now 'Twas in a dream revealed to me But not a dreamt of sleep A dream of watchful agony Of grief that would not weep Now do not harshly turn away

and what does not recall her?  I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags!  In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day—I am surrounded with her image!  The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance.  The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!

You said I killed you — haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe — I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always — take any form — drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!