here’s a side of hurt” lessons and it is never truly acceptance unless it has cost us something to arrive there.Why, you ask? Because, I answer.Inadequate yet true.

I picture Cully tromping through that high, deep snow. That’s how I feel physically from all of this. Moving through grief like it’s a thick drift, exhausting but enlivening. It makes your muscles ache. It...

Grief drives men into habits of serious reflection, sharpens the understanding, and softens the heart

Every morning, I wake up and forget just for a second that it happened. But once my eyes open, it buries me like a landslide of sharp, sad rocks. Once my eyes open, I’m heavy,...

There is greater clarity in the still waters of sadness, something not found in the babbling brooks of more sought after emotions.

LIFE is a mosaic of pleasure and pain – grief is an interval between two moments of joy. Peace is the interlude between two wars. You have no rose without a thorn; the diligent picker...

It had been many months since I’d shed tears for Tomaso, but grief is like that. It’s not a continuous process; it comes in waves. You can keep it at bay for a time, like...

Still everyone, including the abbot, had said that he was running away from his grief. They’d had no idea what they were talking about. He’d cradled his grief, almost to the point of loving it....

This lake is alive. Kicking. Breathing. Frothing. I envision it’s as angry as I am. As resolved to its fate as I’ve become. But the only thing this lake has conceded is that to fight...

Century after century, the belief that an individual’s physical health was independent of his or her emotional health has so dominated medical thought that there has even been open contempt for anyone who would dare...

Strange, what the heart can bear. It can carry grief beyond measure. It can bear a weight that is too great to speak of. But a heart can’t bear the world. It has its limits…

It’s not a good idea.

…grief is loved turned into an eternal missing. …It can’t be contained in hours or days or minutes.

My mother always pouted that it was actually her paintings and not her charm, her beauty or her sass that made him fall in love with her. He’d always insisted that it was definitely her...

I followed many conversations about what happened in Norway and the death of Amy Winehouse because they happened one after the next. Too many of those conversations tried to conflate the two events, tried to...

That what?” “That I knew i misjudged you. That you love him. I’m not saying In what way. Maybe you don’t know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him,”...

Grief was like a newborn, and the first three months were hard as hell, but by six months you’d recognized defeat, shifted your life around, and made room for it.

Nothing will shake a man-or at any rate a man like me-out of his merely verbal thinking and his merely notional beliefs. He has to be knocked silly before he comes to his senses. Only...

I’ll remember you, he thinks, and as the gun carriage, with its coffin and its dented helmet pass him by, he closes his eyes.Nothing will bring them back. Not the words of comfortable men. Not...

I have this strange feeling none of this is really happening. Like I’m standing far away from myself. Like nothing is real. Have you ever had a feeling like that?

They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite

At morn we buried Melanippus; as the sun set the maiden Basilo died by her own hand, as she could not endure to lay her brother on the pyre and live; and the house beheld...

Shine in any season of your life!Head on with confidence in your life’s pilgrim!In deep faith, countless hope and unconditional love blessed by the Almighty.Newness of each rising day, bringing forth colourful sunsets.Enkindle your soul...

Starting over is an acceptance of a past we can’t change, an unrelenting conviction that the future can be different, and the stubborn wisdom to use the past to make the future what the past...

Grief is the price we pay for love

Someday, beyond the clouds and all the world’s wrongs, there will be love, compassion and justice, and we shall all understand.

If you had a table spread for a feast, and was making merry with your friends, you would think it was kind to let me come and sit down and rejoice with you, because you’d...

He felt it deep, like a stone too big to heft out of the garden. He just had to how around it and make do.

Jesus might not think so, but maybe the dead are best left that way.

Don’t let me lose myself.

I have become a sour woman. I take no joy in meat nor mead, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings....

…do you actually think that how long a person grieves is a measure of how much they loved someone?

It’s not life situations but our thoughts are the pilots of grief.

grief is a housewhere the chairshave forgotten how to hold usthe mirrors how to reflect usthe walls how to contain usgrief is a house that disappearseach time someone knocks at the dooror rings the bella...

Why is it that people talk about death, as if it is a part of life, when it is entirely separate? Someone passes on into the never ending void, where the living aren’t allowed. We...

He wept bitter tears over the death of his enemy. It was his enemy, after all, who knew him best and kept him up at night.

Love is love, and loss is loss. We all love, and we all die, and everyone suffers the pain of grieving. The trick is to enjoy what you have while you have it.

But grief makes a monster out of us sometimes . . . and sometimes you say and do things to the people you love that you can’t forgive yourself for.

I’d long thought that a surfeit of sensitivity could be a killing thing, too much insight malignant in its own right. The best survivors–there are studies that show it–are those blessed with an inordinate ability...

I’m not sure about all the particulars that led to this moment. Do I believe life is a series of dots to be connected…or that no one can outrun destiny…or that all roads lead to...

When my late father died — now I’m in mourning for my late mother — that sense of grief and bereavement suddenly taught me that so many things that I thought were important, externals, etc.,...

She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread...

Never let the salt of your tears be tasteless in grief.

Envy, after all, comes from wanting something that isn’t yours. But grief comes from losing something you’ve already had.

Strangely, I thought of the emotion I ought to feel without feeling it, as impartial as a National Geographic field researcher, carefully watching the events and chronicling them in a notebook. Deirdre finds that she...

You have no idea how well you are doing,” John complimented mejust a few minutes after he mentioned the Christmas card. What did that mean: That I was doing well? That I’d come to a...

It was strange how in that moment of tragedy, it had seemed so unreal, like an old-fashioned movie reel playing on a screen for my eyes only. The pain and broken heart were blocked off...

During my grief, I realised there was nothing I could do for my mother, but I did have a child.

{Yogananda on the death of his dear friend, the eminent 20th century scientist, Luther Burbank}His heart was fathomlessly deep, long acquainted with humility, patience, sacrifice. His little home amid the roses was austerely simple; he...

the heart aches through nights—the broken places of neglect