"grief"タグの名言

Oh! it is hard to take to heart the lesson that such deaths will teach, but let no man reject it, for it is one that all must learn, and is a mighty, universal Truth. When Death strikes down the innocent and young, for every fragile form from which he lets the panting spirit free, a hundred virtues rise, in shapes of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world, and bless it. Of every tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves, some good is born, some gentler nature comes.

What he is really saying is this: this is how the story must end; our hearts can bear no more loss.

She looked into my eyes, as if she could see me. In that moment I could see her too, the woman inside, the woman I'd lost. She was there with me, her soul open and present and clear as light. For those few seconds I was no longer afraid of the journey, of the road ahead.

It takes bravery to cry out, to release what is in your heart.

Nothing is lost. That which seems lost is just not confined to this moment.

Fortunately, even boundless despair eventually reaches the limits of our body and soul, and slowly blunts itself against them.

In Life, we have two choices after being heartbroken, we can become bitter or better. Always choose the latter!-Better

At 10:37pm she took her last breath. Her last breath of life was a very long exhale and then she never took another breath again.

There is a noise that is different to grief. Sadness wails and cries and lets loose a sound to the heavens like a baby calling for its mother. That kind of noisy grief is hopeful. It believes that things can be put right, or that help can come. There is a different kind of sound to that. Babies left alone too long do not even cry. They become very still and quiet. They know no one is coming.

Hope can have sharp edges as it leaves you.

Some days are sweetened with pure, but fleeting joy. Just keep keeping on. Some days consist of a kind of sorrow that tries to break you. Just keep keeping on. Some days are filled with bright, warm light that clearly shows the path to follow. Just keep keeping on. Some days are filled with calm and peace. Just keep keeping on. Some days are filled with a violent commotion that does its best to disrupt our innermost harmony. Just keep keeping on. Some days we must just take a rest, until we can once again, keep keeping on. Some days are filled with hope and faith and the recognition of a journey we wouldn't trade for anything. And so we keep keeping on.

The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear; Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year. And then, that we have followed them We more than half suspect, So intimate have we become With their dear retrospect.

Sometimes when we feel lost, the universe sends a little help. Something or someone to guide us on our path.” She chuckles, her eyes gleaming. “And that can come in the most unexpected form.

Going with the flow of life is like catching a train at the station. You need to be at the right station at the right time and board the right train to get you where you need to be. If you go earlier than you’re supposed to, you can catch the wrong train. You don’t want to do that because it will just take you further away from me than you feel you already are. You need to go through the growing pains of grief so that you and I can fulfill our destiny and be in the right place at the right time to be reunited again.

We cry from pain, from loss, and from loneliness, but mostly we cry because we still have hope, and because we can still find joy even on the darkest and coldest of winter nights.

He told her about the first time he had looked on the back of her neck as she sat in the church pew. Of the feeling that had never let go of him since. He talked to her of the great waste of years between then and now. A long time gone. And it was pointless, he said, to think how those years could have been put to better use, for he could hardly have put them to worse. There was no recovering them now. You could grieve endlessly for the loss of time and for the damage done therein. For the dead, and for your own lost self. But what the wisdom of the ages says is that we do well not to grieve on and on. And those old ones knew a thing or two and had some truth to tell, Inman said, for you can grieve your heart out and in the end you are still where you were. All your grief hasn't changed a thing. What you have lost will not be returned to you. It will always be lost. You're left with only your scars to mark the void. All you can choose to do is go on or not. But if you go on, it's knowing you carry your scars with you. Nevertheless, over all those wasted years, he had held in his mind the wish to kiss her there at the back of her neck, and now he had done it. There was a redemption of some kind, he believed, in such complete fulfillment of a desire so long deferred.

Does this not tell you that grief, as well as in life, there is always something to look forward to beyond?

There is an old Chinese tale about the woman whose only son had died. In her grief, she went to the holy man and said, 'What prayers, what magical incantations do you have to bring my son back to life?' Instead of sending her away or reasoning with her, he said to her, 'Fetch me a mustard seed from a home that has never known sorrow. We will use it to drive the sorrow out of your life.' The woman set off at once in search of that magical mustard seed. She came first to a splendid mansion, knocked at the door and said, 'I am looking for a home that has never known sorrow. Is this such a place? It is very important to me.' They told her 'You've certainly come to the wrong place,' and began to describe all the tragic things that had recently befallen them. The woman said to herself, 'Who is better able to help these poor unfortunate people than I, who have had misfortune of my own?' She stayed to comfort them, then went on in her search for a home that had never known sorrow. But wherever she turned, hovels and in palaces, she found one tale after another of sadness and misfortune. Ultimately, she became so involved in ministering to other people's grief that she forgot about her quest for the magical mustard seed, never realizing that it had in fact drive the sorrow out of her life.

Continuing bonds are not an alternative to grief-work, but more a result of it.

History dressed up in the glow of love’s kiss turned grief into beauty.