Quotes About Mourning

Great griefs are mute.

Amber was past tense. We were covering her inanimate face in the white sheet of was.

Years later, when they were killed in a car crash on the Farm to Market Road, and the Nell-that-never-lived died with them, Olena, numbly rearranging the letters of her own name on the envelopes of the sympathy cards she received, discovered what the letters spelled: Olena; Alone.

She had bought several plain pine chests to use as love seats or boot boxes, but they came to look to her more and more like children's coffins, so she returned them.

At all the funerals for love, love had its neat trick of making you mourn it so much, it reappeared. Popped right up from the casket. Or, if it didn't reappear itself, it sent a relative of startling resemblance, a thin and charming twin, which you took home with you to fatten and cradle, nuzzle and scold.

You don't quit loving somebody just on account of they're dead.

Quando morrem aqueles que amamos, temos de viver por eles. Temos de ver as coisas pelos seus olhos. Temos de lembrar como é que eles costumavam dizer as coisas, e usar as palavras que eles usavam. Temos de agradecer o facto de podermos fazer coisas que eles já não podem fazer, e também de sentir uma grande tristeza por isso acontecer.

All of my joys have been pulled out of my mouth like teeth. All my home is nothing but sadness and silence and ruin and memory. I have been reduced, I am my own ghost, all my own beauty and youth have shrilled away, there are no illusions of happiness to impel me. Life is a prison of poverty and aborted dreams, it is nothing but a slow progress to my place beneath the soil.

Every one seems to be scrubbing their white steps. All the houses look like tidy jails, with their outside shutters. Several have crepe on the door-handles, and many have flags flying from roof or balcony. Few men appear, and the women seem to do the business, which, perhaps, accounts for its being so well done.

We mourn the loss of our little pet, And sigh o'er her hapless fate, For never more by the fire she'll sit, Nor play by the old green gate.

Después de la muerte de Pablo, yo también me descubrí durante semanas pensando: A ver si deja ya de hacer el tonto y regresa de una vez, como si su ausencia fuera una broma que me estuviera gastando para fastidiarme, como a veces hacía.

Esa helada, calmada, enlutada mujer, la autómata en la que se había convertido Marie», dice su hija Ève. Pero, por dentro, ardía la demencia pura de la pena.

A SON My son was killed while laughing at some jest. I would I knew What it was, and it might serve me in a time when jests are few.

Mourning can be very selfish. When someone you love has died, you tend to recall best those few moments and incidents that helped clarify your sense, not of the person who has died, but of your own self.

How does one comfort a young woman whose body must hunger for her husband? How does one help her mourn? How does one comfort the wives and mothers and children of dead soldiers?

Kenji knew people who knew how to party, and so when it was time to transport their friend's body to the crematorium, the musicians canceled the hearse and took matters into their own hands. Annabelle went along with them. The coffin was heavy, but Kenji added little to its weight, and so they were able to lift it, taking turns carrying it on their shoulders, New Orleans–style, through the narrow back alleys and the dark, rain-slick streets.

It's going to get dark," she said. "We better go back." She shifted and then knelt beside her dead pet, leaning down until her lips touched their ear. "Goodbye, my dear darling TAZ," she whispered. "I love you. You'll be with me forever." Benny watched, wishing once again that he were the dead ferret.

The death of someone close to you, he realized at that moment, was something you came to accept one concrete fact at a time.

Whiteness is often associated with finality, with the end, with death. In those cultures in which people live with the fear of death, mourners dress in black, to scare death away from themselves, isolate it, confine it to the deceased. But here, where death is regarded as another form, another shape of existence, mourners dress in white and dress the deceased in white: whiteness is here the color of acceptance, consent, of a surrender to fate.

the swift daring strength of his youth and the steady hand of his ripe manhood we have had, but the wisdom of his deep age is taken from us and that we will never have, spilled with the blood he shed for us! Mourn, then, mourn! For he is lost and gone and we will send him to the sky and the earth and the sea.

She let herself go physically: That has to be said. She became--there is not a polite way of putting this--blowsy. She sagged; for all her good works, her body became the emblem and manifestation of her grief.

Mourn for the living, the dead have got their camphor gardens.

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.

Ti inganni mio signore, io non amavo mio padre come amo te; il mio amore per te è un altro amore: mio padre è morto e io non sono morta, mentre se tu morissi io pure morirei.