Quotes About Mourning

For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed;And yet anon repairs his drooping head,And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled oreFlames in the forehead of the morning sky.So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,Through the dear might of him that walk'd the waves.

It has taken me four years to figure this out. If we live long enough, we all will experience this. Don't ever predetermine how you think that you should feel on an anniversary of a tragic event in your life, such as a death of a loved one, or on a holiday after such an event. Each year starts out with 365 days, and I will be damned if I am giving up even one of them to misery.

God is ready and waiting to receive sinners who put their heart's trust in Jesus and want to be saved, and to pretend that He requires a long period of mourning and sorrow before He will accept a sinner and save him is contrary to the teaching of the Bible.

For as much as I hate the cemetery, I've been grateful it's here, too. I miss my wife. It's easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she's never been anything but dead, than to miss her in all the places where she was alive.

Over Emily's grave, Peach said the Lord's Prayer in a

Cover her face. Mine eyes dazzle. She died young - Duchess. Act 4, Sc.2.

Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle. She died young.

A litter was quickly formed, and Aubrey was laid by the side of her who had lately been to him the object of so many bright and fairy visions, now fallen with the flower of life that had died within her. He knew not what his thoughts were--his mind was benumbed and seemed to shun reflection, and take refuge in vacancy--he held almost unconsciously in his hand a naked dagger of a particular construction, which had been found in the hut.

As they witnessed in drooping flower and falling leaf the first signs of decay, Adam and his companion mourned more deeply than men now mourn over their dead. The death of the frail, delicate flowers was indeed a cause of sorrow; but when the goodly trees cast off their leaves, the scene brought vividly to mind the stern fact that death is the portion of every living thing.

She doesn't like obituaries. She says they're half bragging and half crying, and it's not a good combination" -Maisie

By all accounts Rafe's life had been shattered by the loss of his brother Peter. But whereas she turned away from drink when Draven died, Rafe had simply upended a barrel of brandy on his head and hadn't taken that hat off since.

Nothing is better proof of how far humanity has regressed than the impossibility of finding a single nation, a single tribe, among whom birth still provokes mourning and lamentations.

Mama a fost o fiin?? admirabil?. Asta pentru noi e o consolare. Scrie-mi cît ai cheltuit cu înmormîntarea. Natural, voi contribui ÅŸi eu. C?ci viaÅ£a p?mînteanului este umbr? ÅŸi vis. Mi-aduc aminte de cuvintele astea pline de înÅ£elepciune care se rostesc, cred, la parastas. Ele spun totul.

Port un doliu din na?tere - doliul acestei lumi.

Philosophy is taught only in the agora, in a garden, or at home. The lecture chair is the grave of philosophy, the death of any living thought, the dais is the mind in mourning.

It's like when someone dies, the initial stages of grief seem to be the worst. But in some ways, it's sadder as time goes by and you consider how much they've missed in your life. In the world.

The menfolk, they die, all right. And it's us women who walk around, like the Bible says, and mourn. The menfolk, they die, and it's over for them, but we women, we have to keep on living and try to forget what they done to us.

In places where a loved one has died, time stops for eternity.

When my grandmother died, time died, too, in this apartment.

I felt that I was the only person alive and moving in a world brought to a stop. Houses always feel like that after someone has died.

Everywhere in the house there were sad little reminders—a limp string shopping-bag hanging from the kitchen door; a fortune-telling book in the dresser-drawer; a fern in the dining-room window that had died from neglect since she had ceased to tend it; and one small black glove mixed up with the string she used to save—little things like that were everywhere.

Why do you always wear black?" She delighted me with her answer, the correct, the only, answer. "I'm in mourning for my life. I'm unhappy.

I try to stay out of her way. This is just something I do. I avoid her. [...] I don't want her to see me too often, to encounter me, to deal with me. Me, this walking, talking, living, breathing, eating, shitting, farting reminder of what she's had and what she's lost. [...] I don't linger in the house. I sleep in late, stay out late, keep my bedroom door closed when I'm home. I make myself invisible, intangible. It's easier for her, it's easier for me, just easier, period.

Grief works its own perversions and betrayals; the shape of what we have lost is as subject to corruption as the mortal body...