Quotes
Quotes about Grief
While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.
There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys. -Alphonse de Lamartine.
Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.
It is foolish to pluck out one's hair for sorrow, as if grief could be assuaged by baldness. [Lat., Stultum est in luctu capillum sibi evellere, quasi calvito maeror levaretur.]
It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less with baldness.
Grief drives men into habits of serious reflection, sharpens understanding and softens the heart. -John Adams.
One often calms one's grief by recounting it.
She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.
In private grief with careless scorn. In public seem to triumph and not to mourn.
The only cure for grief is action.
Well has it been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.
Grief is only the memory of widowed affections.
Since grief only aggravates your loss, grieve not for what is past.
Nothing becomes so offensive so quickly as grief. When fresh it finds someone to console it, but when it becomes chronic, it is ridiculed, and rightly.
I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief... For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
The heart bow'd down by weight of woe, To weakest hope will cling, To thought and impulse while they flow, That can no comfort bring, That can, that can no comfort bring, With those exciting scenes will blend, O'er pleasure's pathway thrown; But mem'ry is the only friend That grief can call its own.
When the heart is enlivened again, it feels like the sun coming out after a week of rainy days. There is hope in the heart that chases the clouds away. Hope is a higher heart frequency and as you begin to reconnect with your heart, hope is waiting to show you new possibilities and arrest the downward spiral of grief and loneliness. It becomes a matter of how soon you want the sun to shine. Listening to the still, small voice in your heart will make hope into a reality. Sara Paddison, The Hidden Power of the Heart Hope is a higher heart frequency, and as you begin to re-connect with your heart, hope is waiting to show you new possibilities and arrest the downward spiral of grief and loneliness. Listening to the still small voice in your heart will make hope into a reality. Benjamin Franklin, preface, Poor Richard's Almanac, 1758 He that lives upon hope will die fasting. -Sara Paddison.
Of all the griefs that harass the distress'd, Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest; Fate never wounds more deep the generous heart, Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart.
One joy scatters a hundred griefs.
Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkercher about your brows-- The best I had, a princess wrought it me-- And I did never ask it you again; And with my hand at midnight held your head, And like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time, Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, -I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Even as a Surgeon, minding off to cut Some cureless limb, before in use he put His violent Engins on the vicious member, Bringeth his Patient in a senseless slumber, And grief-less then (guided by use and art), To save the whole, sawes off th' infected part. - Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,
One often calms one's grief by recounting it.
