Sorrow Quotes

Ah, cruel fate, how swiftly joy and sorrow alternate!

The poor and the busy have no leisure for sentimental sorrow.

As a kid I heard the word malignancy as "Malig-Nancy" like an evil woman's name, no matter how many times Kiwi and the Chief and Dr. Gautman himself corrected me. Our mother had mistaken her first symptoms for a pregnancy, and so I still pictured the Malig-Nancy as a baby, a tiny, eyeless fist of a sister, killing her.

Forgetting! It is a form of suicide, a renunciation of the only good the we truly and ineluctably possess: the past. For if joys alone were forgotten, perhaps oblivion would be justly desired. But we are proud and jealous of our sorrows, we love them, we want to remember them. It is they that comprise the crown of life.

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.

Sorry is the Kool-Aid of human emotions. It’s what you say when you spill a cup of coffee or throw a gutter ball when you’re bowling with the girls in the league. True sorrow is as rare as true love.

When sorrows come they come not as single spies But in battalions!

All I can say is, it's a sort of kinship, as though there is a family tree of grief. On this branch, the lost children, on this the suicided parents, here the beloved mentally ill siblings. When something terrible happens, you discover all of the sudden that you have a new set of relatives, people with whom you can speak in the shorthand of cousins.

We have an obligation to feel guilty." The words came out of her lips as if she were reciting an elegy. "Guilty. Because we kill the ones we love.

He who has not looked on Sorrow will never see Joy

A cheerful music is a powerful light for the shadows of sorrow!

Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.

Use your tears to water the garden of your dreams.

Joy was a flame in me Too steady to destroy. Lithe as a bending reed Loving the storm that sways her - I found more joy in sorrow Than you could find in joy.

To be happy to be sad and sad to be happy is to sing an echo in that beautiful language called Sorrow.

The sweet sorrow is tears of joy.

I remember watching the mascara tears flood the ivories and I thought, "It's OK to be sad." I've been trained to love my darkness.

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.

Not sorry, not calling, not cryingAll will pass like smoke of white apple treesSeized by the gold of autumn,I will no longer be young.

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.

When everything seems to be going wrong with you, you must remember the airplane takes off against the wind

Sometimes the sound of silence is the most deafening sound of all.

To laugh continually is to never laugh at all. For it takes the periodic sound of sorrow from which to distinguish the sound of joy.

After your visits, I twisted my blinds shut every night. I locked out the stars and I never saw lightning again. Each night, I simply turned out the lights and went to bed.

One of the hardest things you will ever have to go through is the death of a child. The second hardest thing you will ever have to go through is having a child die at Christmas time. The third hardest thing you will ever have to go through is telling your child that their friend and family member has passed away. The bittersweet moment that pulls you through it all is when your child says, "Mom don't cry. They're okay because they are with God now and they promise not to leave until they help you get through this.

I am beginning to believe that we know everything, that all history, including the history of each family, is part of us, such that, when we hear any secret revealed, a secret about a grandfather, or an uncle, or a secret about the battle of Dresden in 1945, our lives are made suddenly clearer to us, as the unnatural heaviness of unspoken truth is dispersed. For perhaps we are like stones; our own history and the history of the world embedded in us, we hold a sorrow deep within and cannot weep until that history is sung.

But we who live in prison, and in whose lives there is no event but sorrow, have to measure time by throbs of pain, and the record of bitter moments. We have nothing else to think of. Suffering ― curious as it may sound to you ― is the means by which we exist, because it is the only means by which we become conscious of existing; and the remembrance of suffering in the past is necessary to us as the warrant, the evidence, of our continued identity.

Pains are not to be relievedSorrows are not to fade awaya slight change in the visionmay bring a new experience

My wails of sorroware tormenting my soul

Accept the past as the past and realize that each new day you are a new person who doesn’t need to carry old baggage into the new day with you. It’s amazing how many people ruin the beauty of today with the sorrows of yesterday. Yesterday doesn’t exist anymore! For example, if ever I feel foolish or guilty about something I’ve done, I learn from it and attempt to do better the next time. Shame or guilt serves no one. Such feelings actually keep us down, often lowering the vibrations of those around us, as well. Living in the present moment is the recurring baptism of the soul, forever purifying every new day with a new you.

How could you be sad, when you can sing?

Count your summers, not your winters.

God is willing and able to turn his judgements into joys . . . Don't ever think that the sin of your past means there is no hope for your future.

La felicità non consiste nel mettersi al riparo dalla sofferenza, ma di integrarla al tessuto della nostra esistenza.

First we are tested on our strengths, then we our strengths are tested

There is something sustaining in the very agitation that accompanies the first shocks of trouble, just as an acute pain is often a stimulus, and produces an excitement which is transient strength. It is in the slow, changed life that follows--in the time when sorrow has become stale, and has no longer an emotive intensity that counteracts its pain--in the time when day follows day in dull unexpectant sameness, and trial is a dreary routine--it is then that despair threatens; it is then that the peremptory hunger of the soul is felt, and eye and ear are strained after some unlearned secret of our existence, which shall give to endurance the nature of satisfaction.

The hopes that, in my own heart sown,And cherished by such sun and rain,As Joy and transient Sorrow shed,Have ripened to a harvest there:

Sorrow comes with so many defense mechanisms. You have your shock, your denial, your getting wasted, your cracking jokes, and your religion. You also have the old standby catchall--the blind belief in fate, the whole "things happening for a reason" drill.But my personal favorite defense has always been anger, with its trusty offshoots of self-righteous indignation, bitterness, and resentment.

Don't be sorry;Don't you cry.It's enoughThat you tried.I love you,And that won't change.It's not your faultThings worked out this way

Six monthsIt been six months since you passed How long must these feelings of loss last ?It's been six months since you died,on the surface it appears I never really cried. I hide away my tears, my sorrow, my fears.They say time heals all woundsWounds may heal, but scars remain.No one really sees the pain that hides behind my eyes. A heart of gold stopped beatingtwo twinkling eyes closed to restGod broke our hearts that day to prove he only took the best Never a day goes by that you’re not in our hearts, our minds and in our souls. We miss you dad.

But my world fell apart, and all they could do, the whole universe, was to silently move on.

I think a lot of psychopaths are just geniuses who drove so fast that they lost control.

She might have wept then, had not the sky begun to do it for her.

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

when distress comes your ways, pause and ponder

I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, hoever, turns out to be not a state but a process.

He thought perhaps it was a woman's way, to come out of such a storm of emotion and pain as if she were a ship emerging onto calm seas. She had seemed, not at peace, but emptied of sorrow. As if she had run out of that particular emotion and no other one arose to take its place.

Just when she was about to reemerge from the depths of her sorrows, someone shook her again. This wasn't the jolt that usually awakens the senses. This was what it takes to finally rise over all that is petty about this world. Jealousy, insecurity and of course, betrayal. Awakening the senses was meant for another day, another time.

I'll keep looking- till that watery reflection of mine in your eye, rolls down as a tear. I'll keep looking till we finally look away like our lives never met. Let's cheat destiny as if we never knew each other. Let's do this last thing together.

Fear is caused by the uncertainty of the future. Sorrow is caused by the remembrance of the past. Try to keep your thoughts in the present, for the future we will never know and the past we may never understand.

There is much pain that is quite noiseless; and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence. There are glances of hatred that stab and raise no cry of murder; robberies that leave man or woman forever beggared of peace and joy, yet kept secret by the sufferer—committed to no sound except that of low moans in the night, seen in no writing except that made on the face by the slow months of suppressed anguish and early morning tears. Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.

Nothing softens the heart like a song.

Come away, O human child!To the waters and the wildWith a faery, hand in hand,For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

For the one who ‘enjoys’ (worldly) happiness, there will come a time for him to endure sorrow.

You’re my prey tonight.

Sorrow is an opportunity to appreciate happiness.

The sadness sorrow is to desire death while you have life.

Had I owned the words I would've told him what my heart intuited - that joy and sorrow often travel the same road and sometimes, whether by grace or misfortune, they meet and become each other's companion.

It depends on you whether you want wrinkles or dimples on your face.

In a corner you condense yourself and cry- in the same corner you caress and kiss. Life is this, something different each time.