Social sorrow loses half its pain.
The time comes when our hearts sink utterly; When we remember Deirdre and her tale, And that her lips are dust.
Repentance isn't only sorrow for past sins, it's also a determination to now do the will of God as He reveals it to us
We wasters of sorrows! How we stare away into sad endurance beyond them, trying to foresee their end! Whereas they are nothing else than our winter foliage, our sombre evergreen, one of the seasons of our interior year.
There is no fire like passion No crime like hatred, No sorrow like separation, No sickness like hunger, And no joy like the joy of freedom.
Libertarians are learning to their sorrow that big businessmen cannot necessarily be relied upon to be their allies in the battle against extension of governmental encroachments.
Love sorrows are addictive as other sorrows are not.
What is the noble truth of suffering? Birth is suffering, ageing is suffering and sorrow and lamentation, pain, grief and despair are suffering.
There is melancholy in the wind and sorrow in the grass
Chase away sorrow by living
There's an answer, if you reach into your soul, and the sorrow that you know will melt away.
If grief is to be mitigated, it must either wear itself out or be shared.
A prayerful heart and an obedient heart will learn, very slowly and not without sorrow, to stake everything on God Himself.
My parents wanted me to solace them for sorrows they denied having had.
Concealed sorrow bursts the heart, and rages within us as an internal fire.
Singing has nothing to do with the affairs of this world: it is not for the law. Singers are merry, and free from sorrows and cares.
Maybe it’s not, in the end, the virtues of others that so wrenches our hearts as it is the sense of almost unbearably poignant recognition when we see them at their most base, in their sorrow and gluttony and foolishness. You need the virtues, too—some sort of virtues—but we don’t care about Emma Bovary or Anna Karenina or Raskolnikov because they’re good. We care about them because they’re not admirable, because they’re us, and because great writers have forgiven them for it.
This sorrow weighs upon the melancholy souls of those who lived without infamy or praise.
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
Your cause of sorrow must not be measured by his worth, for then it hath no end.