I miss you every minute of every day. If I could miss you more than that, I would.
Someday, we’ll run into each other again, I know it.
Maybe I’ll be older and smarter and just plain better. If that happens,
that’s when I’ll deserve you. But now, at this moment, you can’t hook
your boat to mine, because I’m liable to sink us both.
It’s not that we have to quit this life one day, it’s how many things we have to quit all at once: holding hands, hotel rooms, music, the physics of falling leaves, vanilla and jasmine, poppies, smiling, anthills, the color of the sky, coffee and cashmere, literature, sparks and subway trains... If only one could leave this life slowly!
Though sorrow may impede my heart,
It is of great love to have known you.
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.
Sorrow looks back, Worry looks around, Faith looks up
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
There's release in knowing the truth no matter how anguishing it is. You come finally to the irreducible thing, and there's nothing left to do but pick it up and hold it. Then, at last, you can enter the severe mercy of acceptance.
They'll say you are bad
or perhaps you are mad
or at least you
should stay undercover.
Your mind must be bare
if you would dare
to think you can love
more than one lover.
It is what it is. Isn't that how these things always go? They are what they are. We just get to cope.
If you only knew how to respect my heart, I wouldn't have found a reason to let you go.
No time for happiness, no time for sorrow. Work is the best of physicians.
Regret fills your heart, only if you do not give your best to accomplish something.
There are times that the emotions we keep in our hearts, no matter how abundant, are better left unexpressed.
Amidst the chaos of the cities, a part of you always yearns for the silence of the woods.
I'll use the blood from my spilling heart to write the words that were never able to slip out of my mouth, so you can see how much you've broken me into a perpetual state of melancholy.
Dreams and Happiness are...drugs. And the pain that follows is not less than a sharp knife...or a sharp-nail. It bleeds without blood. You just feel it. With every sense you have got, on every single inch of earth, in every tiny part of the minute you live. It compels you to feed...yourself...
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
Someday, beyond the clouds and all the world's wrongs, there will be love, compassion and justice, and we shall all understand.
Too many are sorry where they should be assertive, and nearly moved to aggressive radical action, where they should be apologizing to themselves first, and then the world at large.
It's a world of sorrow, Oddie, because we make it so.
She hardly ever thought of him. He had worn a place for himself in some corner of her heart, as a sea shell, always boring against the rock, might do. The making of the place had been her pain. But now the shell was safely in the rock. It was lodged, and ground no longer.
I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.
What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life-to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?
Half the night I waste in sighs,
Half in dreams I sorrow after
The delight of early skies;
In a wakeful dose I sorrow
For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
For the meeting of the morrow,
The delight of happy laughter,
The delight of low replies.
Even when a river of tears courses through this body, the flame of love cannot be quenched.
Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoy's Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day's work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping the baby into the city's reservoir, he turns to the cupboards, only to find the vodka bottle empty.
I wish to weep
but sorrow is
stupid.
I wish to believe
but belief is a
graveyard.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall
There's a sorrow and pain in everyone's life, but every now and then there's a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed.
Those who do not weep, do not see.
Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.
It is foolish to tear one’s hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness.
It's only natural to feel lonely after the enjoyable moments pass. But as you experience new joys those feelings of sorrow will start to fade.
What are heavy? sea-sand and sorrow.
What are brief? today and tomorrow.
What are frail? spring blossoms and youth.
What are deep? the ocean and truth.
Mika: Were you happy?
Hiro: I was so happy.
Un-winged and naked, sorrow surrenders its crown to a throne called grace.
Sometimes the sound of silence is the most deafening sound of all.
For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge the more grief.
Chase away sorrow by living
In his face there came to be a brooding peace that is seen most often in the faces of the very sorrowful or the very wise. But still he wandered through the streets of the town, always silent and alone.
His strength for your weakness! His wisdom for your folly! His drive for your drift! His grace for your greed! His love for your lust! His peace for your problems! His joy for your sorrow! His plenty for your poverty!
Wisdom is unwanted in the colony of fools
In the midst of happiness or despair
in sorrow or in joy
in pleasure or in pain:
Do what is right and you will be at peace.
It is my observations, though, that happiness limits the amount of suffering one is willing to inflict upon others
All things, even the deepest sorrow or the most profound happiness are all temporary. Hope is fuel for the soul, without hope, forward motion ceases.
Be like a branch of a tree; flex your body to face 'wind of sorrow'; flex little harder to dance in the 'wind of happiness'.
A withered maple leaf has left its branch and is falling to the ground; its movements resemble those of a butterfly in flight. Isn't it strange? The saddest and deadest of things is yet so like the gayest and most vital of creatures?
Here is a commandment for you: seek happiness in sorrow. Work, work tirelessly.
How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? - from the covenant of peace, a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born.
Nanak dukhiya sab sansaar!
This whole world is ridden with Sorrow.
Stop comparing as we all have a fucked up life, family and job! No matter what others show and potray! ;)
"Jhaak ke dekhoge (I mean kareeb se) toh pata chalega ki saamne waale ke toh zyaada phate hai" hahahahahaha
The truth is,’ replied Dantes, ‘that I am too happy for noisy mirth; ...joy takes a strange effect at times, it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow.
When sorrow knocks at your door, tell it you're busy finding happiness.
Thousands of reason are too less to make me sad but a single reason is enough to make me smile.
It depends on you whether you want wrinkles or dimples on your face.
No truth can cure the sorrow we feel from losing a loved one. No truth, no sincerity, no strength, no kindness can cure that sorrow. All we can do is see it through to the end and learn something from it, but what we learn will be no help in facing the next sorrow that comes to us without warning.
Undo it, take it back, make every day the previous one until I am returned to the day before the one that made you gone. Or set me on an airplane traveling west, crossing the date line again and again, losing this day, then that, until the day of loss still lies ahead, and you are here instead of sorrow.
I waited for dawn, but only because I had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second I'd be normal. Then came the dim awareness of something off, out of place. Then the truth came crashing down and that was it for the rest of the day. Sunlight was reproof. Shouldn't I feel better than I had in the dead of night.
It's a time of sorrow and sadness when we lose a loss of life.
Nothing is ever truly gone...
Not for me, nor for any human being. We can only go forward, unless we are guests in some enchantment that is not is ours. We are condemned to an endless present, and we can never go back-the source of all our joy, and all our sorrow."
-Hem at Zelika's grave
To be alive, it seemed to me, as I stood there in all kinds of sorrow, was to be both original and reflection, and to be dead was to be split off, to be reflection alone.
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and woman to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers & Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
And therefore I forbid my tears.
But now, as it is, sorrows, unending sorrows must surge within your heart as well - for your own son’s death. Never again will you embrace him stiding home. My spirit rebels - I’ve lost the will to live, to take my stand in the world of men -
Death. What a brief word for the extinguishing of life. To be no more. To have days cut off and at their end. To never again..........anything.
Visitors offering their condolences, thinking to comfort me, said "Life goes on." What nonsense, I thought, of course it doesn't. It's death that goes on; Ian is dead now and will be dead tomorrow and next year and forever. There's no end to that. But perhaps there will be an end to the sorrow of it.
For the happy man prayer is only a jumble of words, until the day when sorrow comes to explain to him the sublime language by means of which he speaks to God.
The sorrow of God lies in our fear of Him, our fear of life, and our fear of ourselves. He anguishes over our self-absorption and self-sufficiency... God's sorrow lies in our refusal to approach Him when we sinned and failed.
I mean talk. Never forget that God is your friend. And like all friends, He longs to hear what's been happening in your life. Good or bad, whether it's been full of sorrow or anger, and even when you're questioning why terrible things have to happen. So I talk with
him.
Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On thee, when sorrows rise,
On thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies.
Be happy but when sad times come, know that God allow these time for self-realisation.
Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
The Uses Of Sorrow
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.
Isn’t it time that these most ancient sorrows of ours
grew fruitful? Time that we tenderly loosed ourselves
from the loved one, and, unsteadily, survived:
the way the arrow, suddenly all vector, survives the string
to be more than itself. For abiding is nowhere.
When you are innocently covered by sorrow, It shall be turned into joy.
When my mother died, I thought I’d drown in sorrow. But my grandmother said something very wise, and I’ve always held it close to my heart. She said that not even the sea is infinite, and neither is grief.
When the mind is distressed, the flow of inspiration will be distorted, intellectual faculties will be affected and unexpected confusion/problem will appear
My art is an act of creation and destruction, with all the sorrow and joy these engender as well as all the shadow and light these contain.
You will be a great queen when you come back, you know. And someday you'll love me the way you love your wolf.
Mistake is an event not a person
Uncoupling is a dramatic life event, whose importance is reflected in the eagerness of people to discuss their relationships even years later. Indeed, in attempting to put the story in chronological order, there was no one who was not visited again by sorrow and loss in the telling of it, regardless of the passage of time.
Happy?" asked Aquilina, with dreadful look, and a smile full of pity and terror. "Ah, you do not know what it is to be condemned to a life of pleasure.
I had this dream about you last night. We were still married. I was giving you a haircut, like I always did, being careful to trim around the scar on the back of your head. I’m sorry I sometimes forgot it and left you with a bald spot. And, I’m sorry we didn’t work out. But you look pretty happy on Instagram.
Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow.
It's funny, how one can look back on a sorrow one thought one might well die of at the time, and know that one had not yet reckoned the tenth part of true grief.
Time: old cold time, old sorrow, settling down in layers like silt in a pond.
Was then not all sorrow in time, all self-torment and fear in time? Were not all difficulties and evil in the world conquered as soon as one conquered time, as soon as one dispelled time?
The captain’s eyes betrayed what his countenance must conceal: the anguish of an ancient being who must honour his birthright by living beyond those whom he would have given much to keep.
. . .the sorrows of the heart yearn
to be erased, for one final atonement
finite and forgetting and whole - but time in its preserving
will not permit forgetting; destroying
only when we can no longer beg
or argue with time
to preserve the brief benisons
a few moments longer than our sins
But it's a changeable world! When we consider how great our sorrow seem, and how small they are; how we think we shall die of grief, and how quickly we forget, I think we ought to be ashamed of ourselves and our fickle-heartedness. For, after all, what business has Time to bring us consolation?
...every woman has some reason to weep and weeping is sweetest when it is for another's sorrow.
No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.
She knew that was not an honest prayer, and she did not linger over it. The right prayer would have been, Lord . . . I am miserable and bitter at heart, and old fears are rising up in me so that everything I do makes everything worse.
Now I lay facedown on the bed, sobbing for the woman
who once slept here not knowing that someday one of her
worst fears would come true
...to return to their 'native soil,' as they say, to the bosom, so to speak, of their mother earth, like frightened children, yearning to fall asleep on the withered bosom of their decrepit mother, and to sleep there for ever, only to escape the horrors that terrify them.
To be afraid of sorrow is to be afraid of joy also.
Community is about sharing my life; about allowing the chaos of another’s circumstances to infringe on mine; about permitting myself to be known without constraint; about resigning myself to needing others.
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 to claim that a person’s physical well-being is the sum of its internal and external influences.
Once you have money and fame, the next thing you should expect is scandal and shame.
Ricky just listens. He isn't shocked. He isn't surprised. He listens to me because he knows. He knows the shame and the guilt and the sorrow and the rage. And he does not judge me. He just listens.