Quotes About Mourning

Grief wasn't a feeling. It was a thing that visited. It was a weight, a lead wall, and it pressed on her lungs and settled a shadow across her mind, until the only way she could inhale was through a gasp of anger.

There is a razor-thin line between trying to find something usefully redemptive in illness and lying to ourselves about the nature of suffering. Until we mourn what is lost in illness—and until we have a medical community that takes seriously the suffering of patients—we should not celebrate what is gained in it.

Grief is paradoxical: you know you must let go, and yet letting go cannot happen all at once. The literature of mourning enacts that dilemma; its solace lies in the ritual of remembering the dead and then saying, There is no solace, and also, This has been going on a long time.

Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. -Kingsley

I went to your funeral, Annie. She hardened herself against the thickness in his voice, and reached for the door handle. Was it nice? He slid in front of her, his back against the door. His hard smile was at her eye level. I don't know. I only got through it with the help of a fifth, so I was too drunk to see much of anything.

Healthy are those who mourn," writes Donald L. Anderson, a minister and psychologist, in Better Than Blessed. "Only very recently have we begun to realize that to deny grief is to deny a natural human function and that such denial sometimes produces dire consequences," he continues.

When you mourn for too long, you start to forget how to feel joy.

I was still mourning- clinging to the broken heart of girlhood, to broken connections. When that mourning ceased I was able to love again.

Batterer, he observes that there are few male models for grieving, and he emphasizes that "men in particular seem incapable of grieving and mourning on an individual basis.

here in this untouched wood a dirge a lamentation for earth to live again earth that is all at once a grave a resting place a bed of new beginning

Poems of lamentation allow the melancholic loss that never truly disappears to be given voice. Like a slow solemn musical refrain played again and again, they call us to remember and mourn, to know again that as we work for change our struggle is also a struggle of memory against forgetting.

All the years of my life I thought I was searching for love I found, retrospectively, to be years where I was simply trying to recover what had been lost, to return to the first home, to get back the rapture of first love. I was not really ready to love or be loved in the present. I was still mourning -- clinging to the broken heart of girlhood, to broken connections. When that mourning ceased I was able to love again.

If he was still alive, I thought. I knelt to him, then to Osferth, and I left. We walked in silence to a cloistered courtyard where the last roses of summer had dropped their petals on the damp grass. We sat on a stone bench and listened to the mournful chants echoing from the passageway. "The archbishop wanted me dead," I said. "I

Mourning died slowly. It never fully dies for something truly loved.

It is as if people refused to leave their dead alone, forced them back into the light, made them keep their composure even in death.

On vultures:) ... those false but democratic mourners at every casual bier ...

The downside of human closeness is that, to the degree you have loved their presence, you grieve their loss. Amanda

'The Killing' has a really great combination of qualities: Even though it's very sad and deals with mourning and grief, it's still exciting. It's about real people and it doesn't shy from the painful points of life.

We're all, whether we like it or not, gonna have to deal with bereavement at some point in our lives, and it's something I think, as a society, maybe we shy away from.

My father died in 1989 before I knew what I was going to do with my life. I had just graduated from college. My mother died just before 'Sideways' came out. She knew I was an actor, but she never saw me become successful.

Usually, Hmong funerals last several days and our whole family comes together for it. It's a Hmong tradition to fold thousands of little paper boats with silver or gold paper that represent money the person could take into the afterlife, but we couldn't do that because of the coronavirus.

I think Mark's death was

Bobby was buried on Saturday. . . . I wasn't going to lose control in a public setting like this. Even so, there were moments when I could feel my face heat up and my eyes blur with tears. It was more than this loss. It was all death, every loss - my parents, my aunt.

Sunset is the saddest light there is