She closes her eyes, and I can see the moisture. She’s deep-breathing again, and I notice her hands are clutched around the opposing wrists, nails digging in deep, hard, scratching. Pain to replace pain.

We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delinaments, weight and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. I know, he said, because he was...

A win is a win, but the game sure was ugly. Good grief, we hit just six of 37 shots. Neither team could get into the flow of their offense because of turnovers and fouls....

[A] person whose head is bowed and whose eyes are heavy cannot look at the light.

Grief does not change you it reveals you, Hazel.

What happens when you let go, when your strength leaves you and you sink into darkness, when there’s nothing that you or anyone else can do, no matter how desperate you are, no matter how...

A grief travels with us as far as we carry it.

Yet that grief and this joy were alike outside all the ordinary conditions of life; they were loop-holes, as it were, in that ordinary life through which there came glimpses of something sublime. And in...

You want to know why God gave us people to love? Because that’s the only way we can understand how he feels about us. Desperate and jealous.

WHAT THE LIVING DO Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there.And the Drano won’t work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled upwaiting for the...

No point carrying useless ballast. It won’t change a thing.

Ten years, she’s dead, and I still find myself some mornings reaching for the phone to call her. She could no more be gone than gravity or the moon.

There should be a statute of limitation on grief. A rulebook that says it is all right to wake up crying, but only for a month. That after 42 days you will no longer turn...

…it is love, imperfect and unordered, that keeps them apart, even as it holds them somehow together…

Your whole world ceases to exist and you’re nothing but a shell of a person you once were. Your mom has dealt with it her way, me in mine, and you in yours,” he said,...

Well, it is a particular sin to permit grief for what is gone to poison the praise for what blessings remain to us.

…There is some firm place in me which knows that what happened to Wally, whatever it was, whatever it is that death is as it transliterates us, moving us out of this life into what...

Cooper’s tremendous love and energy and unchained freedom had captured life itself. Now, as the last shovelful covered him forever, I knew I would always carry a big piece of Cooper Half Malamute with me...

He wipes tears off my face and then snot. He uses his hands. He loves me that much.

The whole point of crying was to quit before you cornied it up. The whole point of grief itself was to cut it out while it was still honest, while it still meant something. Because...

I transform “Work” in its analytic meaning (the Work of Mourning, the Dream-Work) into the real “Work” – of writing.) for: the “Work” by which (it is said) we emerge from the great crises (love,...

Grief is a room without doors – but somehow, with its tinsel and cliches, Christmas finds a way in.

She has been surprised by grief, its constancy, its immediacy, its unrelenting physical pain.

I stood there, staring at my clothes. What does a mama wear to her son’s funeral? I looked over my wardrobe.There were outfits purchased for work, church, and casual weekends but nothing to wear to...

I think that Baylor is clearly and you guys gave me all kinds of grief for saying this during Big 12 play but clearly they are the second-best team in the league. They finished in...

Grief is like a drunken house guest, always coming back for one more goodbye hug.

I know this: there is no sense to grief. There is no pattern or shape or texture, and there are no books or stories which can lessen the pain at losing a person you have...

It seemed like a mistake. And mistakes ought to be rectified, only this one couldn’t be. Between the way things used to be and the way they were now was a void that couldn’t be...

But grief is the ultimate unrequited love. However hard and long we love someone who has died, they can never love us back. At least that is how it feels…

We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed, and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful, poetic, and absurd. We find, in...

Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.

Finnick and I sit for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before I can ask, ‘How do you bear it?’Finnick looks at me in disbelief. ‘I don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I...

This rose of pearl-coated infinity transformsthe diseased slums of a broken heartinto a palace made of psalms and gold.

When people mentioned it to me, they thought they were talking about some casual relative of mine. For most people that’s what an uncle was. They had no idea how I felt about Finn. No...

My mother went on and on about it. Actually she went off on a tangent, I told her about your mother at one point and she went all (H starts doing a lightly French accent)...

The light in that room was a glow; I seem to remember the color green, or perhaps flowers. A pale green sheet covered his inert body but not his head, which lay (eyes closed, mouth...

Parting is inevitably painful, even for a short time. It’s like an amputation, I feel a limb is being torn off, without which I shall be unable to function. And yet, once it is done…...

blue-gold sky, fresh cloud, emerald-black mountain, trees on rocky ledges, on the summit, the tiny pin of a telephone tower-all brilliantly clear, in shadow and out. and on and through everything everywhere the sun shines...

Some part of me broke in prayer that morning, and some part of me was reborn as I gave myself fully and completely to prayer and to God in that moment.

If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which...

There’s a fine edge to new grief, it severs nerves, disconnects reality–there’s mercy in a sharp blade. Only with time, as the edge wears, does the real ache begin.

The house cleared, I shut myself in, fastened the bolt that none might intrude, and proceeded—not to weep, not to mourn, I was yet too calm for that, but—mechanically to take off the wedding dress,...

The grief of the keen is no personal complaint for the death of one woman over eighty years, but seems to contain the whole passionate rage that lurks somewhere in every native of the island....

I force myself to think of anything but the one thing that I’m actually always thinking about. And that is so exhausting that I sleep more than I ever have.

Within forty minutes, the voice inside my head was screaming, WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO? I tried to ignore it, to hum as I hiked, though humming proved too difficult to do while also...

Book-club night stopped abruptly when Caleb died. For almost a year and a half, as if by some type of tacit agreement, they all knew they couldn’t be in the same room at the same...

For now the world keeps turning and I keep breathing, in and out, in and out. I breathe in the life that is all around me, in this garden, in this city, in the fields...

You have to do what feels right for you. Do not let anyone influence you otherwise. It is your mind, your heart, and your own internal wisdom that will lead you in the direction you...

was it scripted by God or I am playing with my life.

Women eat ice-cream, men toast marshmallows.