Mourning Quotes
Mourning Quote of the day
O weep for Adonis - He is dead." "Peace. He is not dead he doth not sleep - he hath wakened from the dream of life
I have remembered Who wept for a parting between the living and the dead.
Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
What I am mourning is perhaps not worth saving, but I regret its loss nevertheless.
The family exists for many reasons, but its most basic function may be to draw together after a member dies.
The world is groaning and mourning in pain and ignorance, because the people do not know much about the principles of God
Only Certain offered no enticements, for she knew nothing could ease the pain. Not books or photography or food. Not even love.
Until now I had been able only to grieve, not mourn. Grief was passive. Grief happened. Mourning, the act of dealing with grief, required attention.
Meditation is a spiritual human activity like mourning, fasting, or praying, and is not limited to one religious group while remaining unavailable to others. (103)
You can't love your mother or father if you don't also have the capacity to grieve their deaths and, perhaps even more so, grieve parts of their lives.
People can act so nice, bringing you food and all, but in the end they are nothing but buzzards. Waiting to pick your bones.
Like humans, birds mourn the loss of fledglings and mates. There are a thousand variant weeping songs to sing. I had to sign mine and get on with it. That is what I did
Perhaps that's what she caught, not Life Fatigue but just grief over a broken heart--and the bitterness that comes with being cheated too early of something true--like a young husband's love.
God has broken me in every way possible. I spent a year not caring, a year trying to figure out what I'd done to deserve it. and a year trying to make it right.
The effects of loss are acute, and unique to each individual. Not everyone mourns in the same way, but everyone mourns.
How can it be that there is such a colossal gap between what we think we know about grief and mourning and what we actually find out when it comes to us?
Raw anguish slithers through my brittle bones as the deathly call rots the air. Who murdered you old friend? The forest has no words to identify the hand, only erratic echo.
In the English language there are orphans and widows, but there is no word for the parents who lose a child.
The whole world can become the enemy when you lose what you love.
When one person is missing the whole world seems empty.
Losing people you love affects you. It is buried inside of you and becomes this big, deep hole of ache. It doesn't magically go away, even when you stop officially mourning.
I went on spouting bullshit Encouragements as Gus's parents, arm in arm, hugged each other and nodded at every word. Funerals, I had decided, are for the living.
A woman protested saying, "Of course it was a righteous war. My son fell in it.".
I'm not going to lie to you and say it gets easier, because it doesn't. It's just that you get used to it. The human animal has an amazing capacity to get used to almost anything.
Those who do not care, escape the anguish of mourning but never know the delights of love. The meaning of life forever eludes them.
Don't say mourning. It's too psychoanalytic. I'm not mourning. I'm suffering.
It was possible, I found, to both mourn a loss and yet be grateful it happened.
The sorrow we feel when we lose a loved one is the price we pay to have had them in our lives.
It wasn’t every day that I got to see him, but when I did I knew I was on the right path and that life, while still shifting, was always improving for the better.
We carry the dead with us only until we die too, and then it is we who are borne along for a little while, and then our bearers in their turn drop, and so on into the unimaginable generations.
And perhaps there is a limit to the grieving that the human heart can do. As when one adds salt to a tumbler of water, there comes a point where simply no more will be absorbed.
Instead of hating, my heart cries mercy! Mercy on me! Mercy on me! Mercy on me!
At the end of the day your ability to connect with your readers comes down to how you make them feel.
Lady Moon rose an' gazed o'er my busted'n'beautsome Valleys with silv'ry'n'sorryin' eyes, an' the dingos mourned for the died uns.
Pak Karman hugged his wife’s gravestone tightly. “You left without saying farewell!” The whole of the graveyard was ablaze with light.
He needs a looser association. He needs something that implies a man who wants the ice shard to remain in his chest, who's learned to love the sensation of being pierced.
Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.
