One often calms one's grief by recounting it.
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave.
His face was in my neck and he was breathing hard. Was he grieving me? Already? Would he miss me? Had I, in some tiny way, come to matter to this enigmatic, hard, brilliant, obsessed man? I realised he'd come to matter to me. Good or evil, right or wrong, he mattered to me.
You should grieve if a fictional character is killed. You should care.
I can feel his presence here in every stone he has touched, every person he has lifted up, every street and alley and city that he has changed in the few years of his life, because he is the Republic, he is our light, and I love you, I love you, until the day we meet again I will hold you in my heart and protect you there, grieving what we never had, cherishing what we did. I wish you were here. I love you, always.
If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble.
One smile relieves a heart that grieves.
Sorrow's child grieves not what has passed, but all the past still yet to come.
And here am I, budding among the ruins with only sorrow to bite on, as if weeping were a seed and I the earth's only furrow.
We need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.
Great joys, like griefs, are silent.
There are no words to describe the pain of burying a child, and specifically there is no word to label their new, lifelong status. If you lose a spouse, you are a widow; if you lose a parent, you are an orphan. But what about when you lose a child? How do you name something you cannot comprehend?
Grieve not because thou understand-not life's mystery; behind the veil is concealed many a delight.
She was tired of everyone wanting to go to heaven, nobody wanting to die. The only thing worth grieving over, she said, was that sometimes there was more beauty in this life than the world could bear.
I know that The Other Side, and the spirits who live there, are as real as this earth we live on, and that the only thing separating "her" from "there" is a thinly veiled difference in vibrational frequency.
Don't grieve for what doesn't come. Some things that don't happen keep disasters from happening.
I am quite confident that the most important part of a human being is not his physical body but his nonphysical essence, which some people call soul and others, personality. . . The nonphysical part cannot die and cannot decay because it's not physical.
If we cannot serve a person who we can see, how can we serve a God whom we cannot see? Some just have to have their own thing and be the “boss”. I grieve for these people who have become the King of their own tiny mound, when they could have been a Prince in a major organization.
I am quite ready to acknowledge. . . that I ought to be grieved at death, if I were not persuaded that I am going to other gods who are wise and good (of this I am as certain as I can be of any such matters), and to men departed who are better than those whom I leave behind. And therefore I do not grieve as I might have done, for I have good hope that there is yet something remaining for the dead.
When you pray to God resignedly, as though patiently accepting the punishment of grief at the death of a loved one, and you say: "Thy will be done O Lord. The Lord giveth, and he taketh away", you have not yet known the God of love, for God giveth only. God never takes that which has not been given. What God gives to you you regive to Him for His regiving. You rejoice when God gives birth to life, yet you deeply grieve when you give rebirth to new life - for that is what death is.