Quotes About Mourning

I grieve for every death.

It breaks my heart to think about a family weeping over the loss of a loved one. I understand the anguish that some feel about the death that takes place.

And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.

By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.

A thought Of that late death took all my heart for speech.

The gloomy shade of death.

And will 'a not come again? And will 'a not come again? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy death bed: He will never come again.

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones!

Part of us did die. Literally - that tissue on your face, the part they removed. It died. And you can't recover from any kind of death without mourning it.

He'd seen a lot of bizarre items left at gravesides, like a carton of eggs, a pair of reading glasses, a bag of licorice, smooth stones, a spoon.

Not how he died, not what he died of, even less why he died, are of concern, to me, only the fact that he did die, he is dead, is important: the loss to me, to us

Who shall tell the lady's griefWhen her Cat was past relief?Who shall number the hot tearsShed o'er her, beloved for years?Who shall say the dark dismayWhich her dying caused that day?

Two turtle doves will show theeWhere my cold ashes lieAnd sadly murmuring tell theeHow in tears I did die

Nobody died. how can you kill an idea? How can you kill the personification of an action?""Then what died? who are you mourning?""A point of view.

As soon as someone dies, frenzied construction of the future (shifting furniture, etc.): futuromania.

For every death is a simplification of existence for the others, removes the necessity to show gratitude, the obligation to pay visits.

There are thousands of words in the English language for acts of senseless violence, but not one seems to be a contestant when a child dies.

The bereaved need more than just the space to grieve the loss. They also need the space to grieve the transition.

He couldn't count them all. Nobody taught him how to count past ten. Such losses were beyond his comprehension.

It was the word 'late' that did it. Such a stupid word to use of the dead, implying that they would be with us today if they hadn't happened to be delayed in traffic somewhere...

The final tormenting, unanswerable question: what is 'success' in mourning?

Funerals seem less about comforting the souls of these dearly departed than aboutcomforting the people they leave behind.

Someone dies, there oughta be something. It oughta shake the world! You're not supposed to walk away!

Stop your weeping. Grief is for the dead.