Quotes About Mourning

Don't say mourning. It's too psychoanalytic. I'm not mourning. I'm suffering.

You can only go into mourning by transfiguration or disfigurement. There is no rational form of the absorption of death.

The light was soft, diffuse, as if the sun itself had been wrapped in a white mourning veil. While fields of wheat whispered consolation to themselves, the hedgerows were filled with the bright shout of buttercups and champion, bluebells and cow parsley. Even in the shade the air was warm. It would be a good year for honey

Someone told me just recently that poets are eulogists. It's their job, to eulogize. I didn't know that, but it makes sense. Because in almost every poem of mine there is a loss.

Remember that a woman who has given birth to a dead child has given birth and is recovering physically, too. Don't be afraid of grieving parents.

Never tell a child 'you have a soul. Teach him, you are a soul; you have a body.' As we learn to think of things always in this order, that the body is but the temporary clothing of the soul, our views of death and the unbefittingness of customary mourning will approximate to those of Friends of earlier generations.

So long as we have nothing to say to God, nothing to do with Him, save in the sunshine of the mind when we feel Him near us, we are poor creatures, willed upon, not willing…. And how in such a condition do we generally act? Do we sit mourning over the loss of feeling? Or worse, make frantic efforts to rouse them?

It's not a graveyard, Mr Watson, it's a cemetery.

Observing her, I saw that she was made up, that she was in an evening gown, that mourning indecently emphasized her beauty.

Ölümün için her ÅŸey çoktan haz?r: Seni öldürecek top güllesi çok uzun zaman önceden eritilip döküldü, tabutunun peÅŸinden aÄŸlayacak olan kad?nlar çoktan tutuldu.

Can there be anything more sad than a girl dying on the day of her first communion, in her new dress. A little bride of death...

Do you recall Fred Merriville?" She stared at him. "Fred Merriville? Pray, what has he to say to anything?" "The poor fellow has nothing to say: he's dead, alas!

Are you well? You look a trifle peaked." "If I do, it is because black doesn't become me. I mean to lighten my mourning, and have ordered a charming gray gown." "You are mistaken." "What, in going into half-mourning?" "No, in thinking black does not become you.

I can usually tell when a woman is going through a divorce because they look so gaunt and tired and sad. It's just a huge sadness. It's horrible. It's like death. You mourn, but the person's still there.

Growing up, I saw my mother cry exactly once. The morning of her brother's funeral. One long tear ran down her cheek through her make up until she caught it near her mouth and patted it dry with a tissue she pulled from inside her sleeve.

That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.

In this way I can mourn him without having to think about him.

It's an expression of grief for an original loss.

I see it as my job to mourn him until the day I die.

David is very concerned about being remembered. I'm concerned about remembering because, after all, I'm going to be left behind. People we know die all the time and there is really no way to react. What can you do? Freak out every day? David brings memory up all the time. I can see how appalled he is at how little any of us react to AIDS deaths. He's focused a lot of worry on being forgotten.

Have you ever seen somebody die? It's not like in the movies, not to me. You don't close their peaceful eyes and pray for their soul. Rather their eyes are full of horror. People say taken in the flower of their youth, how sad yet these people get to escape a lifetime of hell and still people mourn. I laugh in honor of the dead. may they rot in peace.

You cried out in your sleep last night, steel toe boots doing dances in your head. It's raining now and no one cares. Palmetto trees stand guard outside. He died last night, actually at 7:45 this morning. Will you cry? Will you?

The only things I regret, and the only things I'll ever regret are things I didn't do. In the end, that's what we mourn. The paths we didn't take. The people we didn't touch.

I shouldered a kind of manhoodstepping in to lift the coffinsof dead relations.