Quotes About Lament

No," he repeated, and this time the word tolled in another voice, a king's voice... whose grief was not for what he did not have, but for what he could not give.

He who knows most grieves most for wasted time.

Later, I'l learn that's the structure of an elegy: lament, consolation; bad news, followed by good news.)

It is not pity that you feel; you lament only because the victim of your malignity is withdrawn from your power.

You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are consumed, you sit among the ruins and lament the fall.

It is well that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have made. You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are consumed you sit among the ruins, and lament the fall.

I am sorry that I am alive to feel this misery and horror.

Regret for wasted time is more wasted time

and over your unconsecrated head you'll hear the howling wolves lament their fate and yours the livelong year;

Too late always comes too early. She

We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.

Bluefur moaned.

How easy it is, to waste a life.

The damned don't cry.

Sadness is a vice.

The next day was, for Emma, a dismal one. Everything seemed enveloped in a black atmosphere that hovered indistinctly over the exterior of things, and sorrow rushed into her soul, moaning softly like the winter wind in abandoned manor houses. It was the sort of reverie you sink into over something that will never return again, the lassitude that overcomes you with each thing that is finished, the pain you suffer when any habitual motion is stopped, when a prolonged vibration abruptly ceases.

The next day, for Emma, was funereal. Everything appeared to her shrouded in a black mist that hovered uncertainly over the surface of things, and grief plunged deep into her soul, moaning softly like the winter wind in an abandonded chateau. She sank into that kind of brooding which comes when you lose something forever, that lassitude you feel after every irreversible event, that pain you suffer when a habitual movement is interrupted, when a long-sustained vibration is suddenly broken off.

Les âmes des morts, disait-il, se résolvent dans la lune comme les cadavres dans la terre. Leurs larmes composent son humidité: c'est un séjour obscur plein de fange, de débris et de tempêtes.

We can no more master the past than we can undo it. But we can reconcile ourselves to it. The form for this is the lament, which arises out of all recollection.

Jeremiah has to lament that there are as many altars as towns in Judah.

Adults spend $500 billion on games and leisure activity each year, and some adults lament that kids get $15 billion for toys.

Es ist schade«, sagte ich rauchend, »daß du ein Geist bist.«

But there were also times when she cried out in the darkness biting her lips - cried out against the substance of her age: for it was now that she should be young; now above all other times, with the wisdom in her, the wisdom that was frittered away in her 'teens', set aside in her twenties, now, lying there, palpable and with forty summers gone. She clenched her hands together. What good was wisdom; what good was anything when the fawn is fled from the grove?

Robin Hood's Lament"?' Every archer knew that tune.