Quotes About Mourning

There are people who die and, with all due respect, you don't lose anything. But he was one of those that when they're gone you feel it. As if the whole world had become, from one day to the next, a little heavier.

in which he was mortally wounded by his brother-in-law, George Danthès. His death was mourned publicly by all Russia.

Women weep for the dead. Men avenge them.

But for me, it is when a student has died. I find the death of a young person the most difficult and painful of times. To explain it to other young people, to see a bright future snuffed out, is just awful. I am haunted by those deaths.

Every time I blinked I saw her: the untroubled face, the motionless body, the detail of her tattoo. Every time I breathed I realised that the woman with the Brighton Mermaid tattoo wasn't going to do that ever again.

Five thousand! The biggest loss since 9/11.

Why is it that we rejoice at a birth and grieve at a funeral? It is because we are not the person involved.

Death was a big part of my life growing up. I went to lots of funerals.

I'm in mourning for my life.

Enemies are, to me, as important as friends in my life, and when they die I mourn their passing.

I was trying to put myself in the situation of someone that was going through major loss. Losing someone to death or sickness, and having to go through life on your own afterwords.

Sarah's face is bleak. "I'm so sorry, Jerome. So, so sorry. If I could, I would hug you. Bring you back to life." Her body leans forward like she thinks she

We had a bad class status. That was why An Yi was not allowed to wear mourning bands or even cry aloud for her grandmother. That was why my house was searched, and strangers could come in and do whatever they wanted. It was just a simple fact. Why should I ask why? There was absolutely nothing I could do to change it.

they would not be allowed to mourn him when he passed, either. They were just supposed to watch quietly with the rest of the witnesses when the warden pulled the black curtain back and the crowd outside the prison gates began to cheer. . . .

A hundred years ago no one was silent or tongue-tied, as we are now, when death was in the room. They had not yet muzzled grief or banished it from daily life. Death was cultivated, watered like a plant. There was no need for whispering or mime.

It's something that this country hasn't had to deal with. But there's going to be a whole new generation that doesn't know their father. It's almost selfish of us to die. They train us as warriors. But they don't teach us how to take the pain away.

Everyone was eating, talking softly, glancing at me, hugging me, eating. It was as if someone had turned the volume down. Everything looked normal, but the sound was muted. Death did this, set all this weirdness in motion, made people appear out of nowhere carrying casseroles, saying 'I'm sorry' over and over, death muffled their voices.

we are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. as we were. as we are no longer. as we will one day not be at all.

We are not idealized wild things. We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.

If Earth had been hit by plague, by fire, by war, by radiation, sterility, a thousand things, you name it, I'd still stand by her; I love her; I would fight every inch of the way there because my whole life is knit to her. And she'd need mourners. To die on a dying Earth- I'd live, if only to weep.

I can't take another parade where everything centers on the dead and we all act as though we may as well be dead too, even though we're not.

Grief made people guilty. Guilty for being five minutes late, for taking the wrong streetcar, for ignoring a couph or sleeping too soundly. Guilt and grief went hand in hand.

If I had to offer up a one sentence definition of addiction, I'd call it a form of mourning for the irrecoverable glories of the first time...addiction can show us what is deeply suspect about nostalgia. That drive to return to the past isn't an innocent one. It's about stopping your passage to the future, it's a symptom of fear of death, and the love of predictable experience. And the love of predictable experience, not the drug itself, is the major damage done to users.

Let love be the gravestone Lying on my life.