In times of grief and sorrow I will hold you and rock you and take your grief and make it my own. When you cry I cry and when you hurt I hurt. And together...

Great griefs exhaust. They discourage us with life. The man into whom they enter feels something taken from him. In youth, their visit is sad; later on, it is ominous.

A poor old Widow in her weedsSowed her garden with wild-flower seeds;Not too shallow, and not too deep,And down came April — drip — drip — drip.Up shone May, like gold, and soonGreen as an...

I felt like an integral part of my being had just been ripped out of me, only to have it replaced with something that did not belong.

What people resist is not change per se, but loss.

You know what the doctor said to me to cheer me up?” Fat said. “There are worse diseases than cancer.””Did he show you slides?”We both laughed. When you are nearly crazy with grief, you laugh...

Sometimes the hardest goodbyes are the ones never said, the ones that always just hang there in the back of the mind like a dark cloud. There’s so much to say but no one to...

There is no place for grief in a house which serves the Muse.

How I hate this world. I would like to tear it apart with my own two hands if I could. I would like to dismantle the universe star by star, like a treeful of rotten...

Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

Every day my anxiety is higher,every day the grief more mortal.Today more than yesterday terror exalts me…

When a relationship of love is disrupted, the relationship does not cease. The love continues; therefore, the relationship continues. The work of grief is to reconcile and redeem life to a different love relationship.

Among other things, Kathryn knew, grief was physically exhausting.

…and be emptied of gravity and surrounding by the rouge wave of an emotion she could not name.

When I was young I wanted so much to be like her. What a blessing are those moments when there is nothing to worry about, no thought of trouble or grief in the world.

Ruth, que quería que todos creyeran lo que ella sabía: que los muertos realmente nos hablan, que, en el aire que rodea a los vivos, los espíritus se mueven, se entremezclan y ríen con nosotros....

Time doesn’t always heal all wounds.

Larkin gets it, got it, the lies we live just to tread through time.

Thoughts, pictures of him would come to me just a second after waking, shocking me from the forgetfulness of sleep, striking blows that were almost physical. And even in sleep I was not completely free....

But grief is a walk alone. Others can be there, and listen. But you will walk alone down your own path, at your own pace, with your sheared-off pain, your raw wounds, you denial, anger,...

I wandered off, walking through streets that seemed emptier than ever, thinking that if I didn’t stop, if I kept on walking, I wouldn’t notice that the world I thought I knew was no longer...

At Night on the High SeasAt night, when the sea cradles meAnd the pale star gleamLies down on its broad waves,Then I free myself whollyFrom all activity and all the loveAnd stand silent and breathe...

I listened as she talked, thinking that the worse the tragedy, the more people wanted to forget it–and the harder that became. Maybe that’s what made it tragic; not losing the person, but losing your...

If there were no life beyond this earth-life, some people I have known would gain immortality by the nobility of our memory of them. With every friend I love who has been taken into the...

She released her grievances like handfuls of birdseed: They are there, and they are gone.

It feels weird, being out in the real world again. Around people just living their lives like normal. Their presence is oppressive. The very fact that the world is going on as usual, like nothing...

Then the door is before him. There is darkness all around him, there is silence in him. Then the door opens and he stands alone, the whole world falling away from him. And the brief...

I would still rather feel things and live life to the fullest rather than hide in a cave and attempt to protect myself from the uncertainties of the world.

How do people know they are sane? Can a person be gripped by lunacy, only to be released a short time later, never to relive the episode again?

She could see that to lose a sibling was hard: it could only seem unnatural:out of time, out of order, a vicious re-run of your own departure into nothingness.

Dear Eloisa (said I) there’s no occasion for your crying so much about such a trifle. (for I was willing to make light of it in order to comfort her) I beg you would not...

I see now that my faith was becoming an ally rather than an enemy because I could vent anger freely, even toward God, without fearing retribution.

I needed, I decided, to really know her, because I needed more to remember. Before I could begin the shameful process of forgetting the how and the why of her living and dying, I needed...

My grandmother whispering to herself, over and over, “David is in heaven now, David is in heaven now,’ my mind repeating Schrodinger’s Cat, Schrodinger’s Cat.

I tried to shut out the feelings that were hurting my heart with a thousand tiny pinpricks, which was somehow worse that having it broken all at once.

No one is adequate to comprehending the misery of my lot! Fate obliges me to be constantly in movement: I am not permitted to pass more than a fortnight in the same place. I have...

Every moment of our lives we make choices. Most we don’t even know we’re making, they’re so dull or routine or automatic. Some are beyond explanation—like my mom choosing Wyatt’s memory over Dad and me.

She took the posters downtown that afternoon. She filled a rolling suitcase with them … she took a stapler. And a box of staples. And hope. I think of those things. The paper, the stapler,...

Harsh, bitter laughs exploded from her like shrapnel, and she didn’t care who was cut in the process.

Good had defeated evil, people proclaimed, a justification for atrocities best left forgotten. They would cling to this oversimplified truth while trading pats on the back and placing flowers on graves.

He gently touched his mother’s cheek, felt her sorrow slip over his fingertips.

In the monotony of everyday existence grief comes as a holiday, and a fire is an entertainment. A scratch embellishes an empty face.

Holding the knife with the blade against my palm, it became so clear how my life would only contain shadows now. Shadows of things gone; not just the people themselves but everything connected to them....

Home is where I take up such a tiny portion of the memory foam; home is a splintered word. His pillow is a sweat-stained map of an escape plot, also a map of love’s dear...

I don’t know anything different about death than I ever have, but I feel differently. I inhabit this difference in feeling- or does it live in me?- at the same time as I’m sorrowing. The...

Grief, she reminded herself, is almost always for the mourner’s loss.

I vow.

Grief denied will surface in borrowed clothes, the mad, sad clothes of paranoia, fear or loneliness

My friends love me terribly, and their grief will be a screaming storm if I die.

I used to be a poet.My words were traded in marketplaces like pieces of gold.Merchants bought my verses for as much as they paid for saffron and Indian jade.Now I am old…drunk on wine and...