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Quotations about Grief
...True to tell thee,
The grief hath craz'd my wits...
~William Shakespeare, King Lear, c.1605 [III, 4, Earl of Gloucester]
The void left by death is sometimes greater than the place filled in life. ~Madame Swetchine, translated by Harriet W. Preston
The beloved dead — how they tear our hearts! ~Guy de Maupassant (1850–1893)
Now leave, O leave me! I have stayed to hear
All the vain comfortings your lips have said,—
Well meant, but yet they fall upon my ear
As yellow leaves might whirl about my head,—
Now leave me with my dead.
~Elizabeth Chase Akers Allen (1832–1911), "Consolation," c.1866
No mourning can heal the wound of neverness. ~Dr. Idel Dreimer, lumpenbangenpiano.com
Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great
That no supporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit...
~William Shakespeare, King John, c.1596 [III, 1, Constance]
It's so curious: one can resist tears and "behave" very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window — or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer — and everything collapses. ~Colette (1873–1954), letter to Marguerite Moreno, 1923, translated by Robert Phelps, 1980
How much pain is there not that you can bear if nobody speaks to you? Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down. You cannot speak. You dread their coming. Almost like a hurt dog you would creep under the bushes and die alone. ~Bede Jarrett, O.P. (1881–1934), "Three Hours' Agony," The House of Gold: Lenten Sermons, 1930
...funeral grief loathes words. ~Thomas Dekker
Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief... ~William Shakespeare, Love's Labour's Lost, c.1594 [V, 2, Biron]
Panting to help the dear ones and yet not knowing how, lest any voice bereave them... One who only said "I am sorry" helped me the most when father ceased — it was too soon for language. ~Emily Dickinson
There are some griefs so loud
They could bring down the sky,
And there are griefs so still
None knows how deep they lie,
Endured, never expended.
~May Sarton, "Of Grief," A Durable Fire, 1972
Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. ~William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part II, c.1590 [II, 3, Duke of Gloucester]
While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till grief be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it. ~Samuel Johnson, 1776, quoted in James Boswell, The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D.
Sometimes, even after someone dies, you want to send them a postcard. ~Dr. SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
Six years later my mother's absence remained in the air around us, a deafening silence that I had not yet learned to stifle with words. ~Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind, 2001, translated from Spanish by Lucia Graves, 2004
O, this is the poison of deep grief... ~William Shakespeare, Hamlet, c.1600 [IV, 5, Claudius]
Among the natural ills of man there is... no greater pain than grief.
Grief cries and life shines on — and hope paints a rainbow. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
The deep pain that is felt at the death of every friendly soul arises from the feeling that there is in every individual something which is inexpressible, peculiar to him alone, and is, therefore, absolutely and irretrievably lost. Omne individuum ineffabile. ~Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1860), translated from the German by E. F. J. Payne
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
Began to crack...
~William Shakespeare, King Lear, c.1605 [V, 3, Edgar]
Grief chants, or, if violent or sudden, its utterance is exactly like that of physical pain. ~Austin O'Malley, Keystones of Thought, 1914
Even hundredfold grief is divisible by love. ~Terri Guillemets, "Immeasurable," 2006
I too, have been a mourner. Sorrow deep
Its lava-tide around my pathway roll'd...
All joy grew dim before my tearful eye,
Which but the shadow of the grave could see;
There was no brightness in the earth or sky,
There was no sunshine in the world for me.
~Mary Ann H. Dodd Shutts (1813–1878), "The Mourner"
Regret is the glue that makes grief stick around for a lifetime. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
Grief is such
A little thing—
Only the stab of
Remembering…
Echo of laughter,
Tearless sky,
The holy place
Where dead dreams lie…
Pain is made
Of fragile things,
Small torn bits
Of butterfly wings…
Splinters of moon,
Dust of the leaves,
Little chill sparrows
Dead in the eaves…
Love's bitter ghosts,
Brief poignant things…
Shadows of old
Rememberings…
~Sarah-Elizabeth Rodger, "Shadows"
Grief counts the seconds: happiness forgets the hours. ~J. De Finod
In the grief of losing someone,
Why do I feel like the lost one?
~Terri Guillemets, "Left behind," 2007
When Heaven has taken from us some object of our love, how sweet is it to have a bosom whereon to recline our heads, and into which we may pour the torrent of our tears! Grief, with such a comfort, is almost a luxury! ~Thomas Jefferson, 1786
My pappy was kilt. His name was Luther Tyree. I like to say it, because it's all
The ocean has its ebbings — so has grief... ~Thomas Campbell
The poems are numerous, but the thesis is one — death — the death of beloved friends. The poet seems to have dwelt among the shadows of tombs, until his very soul has become a shadow... writing not to mankind, but solely to himself. ~Edgar A. Poe, of Thomas Holley Chivers
The butterfly upon the sky, who doesn't know its name,
And hasn't any tax to pay, and hasn't any home,
Is just as high as you and I, and higher, I believe –
So soar away and never sigh, for that's the way to grieve.
~Emily Dickinson
If guilt or regret is an essential part of your grief, you will never stop grieving. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
My heart with sighs is wasted,
For the dead may not return;—
The ashes of the past hopes are all
That on life's altar burn—
My soul, like a lone mourner, sits
Within its shattered urn.
~Rebecca Shepard Nichols (1819–1903), "The Haunted Heart," Songs of the Heart and the Hearth-Stone, 1851
Dr Owen Harding: Well, it's this confounded living in the past and trying to conjure up ghosts, you know — this playing with the supernatural —it's not doing you any good.
John Carteret: I get a great deal of comfort out of what you call conjuring up ghosts. There's nothing supernatural about it — it's beautifully natural.
Dr Owen Harding: Well, if it gives you any happiness! But I don't think I realized how much these years have changed you. Your grief's become a habit.
~Jane Cowl and Jane Murfin, Smilin' Through, 1919 play, and Smilin' Through, 1932 movie [This is a mash‑up quote I created by combining words from the play and movie. The play was originally published under the pseudonym Allan Langdon Martin. The movie was written by Vajda, West, Stewart, Fagan, Balderston, Marion, & Meehan, and was adapted from the play.
O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last... ~William Shakespeare, Comedy of Errors, c.1589 [V, 1, Aegeon]
...wounds of the spirit... are most gently soothed and made whole by the passing years. Under the old scars flows again the calm, healthful tide of life.... Under a great loss the heart impetuously cries that it can never be happy again, and perhaps in its desperation says that it wishes never to be comforted. But though angels do not fly down to open the grave and restore the lost, the days and months come as angels with healing in their wings. Under their touch aching regret passes into tender memory; into hands that were empty new joys are softly pressed; and the heart that was like the trees stripped of its leaves and beaten by winter's tempests is clothed again with the green of spring. ~George S. Merriam
"This is the shock of the first grief, and you are not yourself yet."
"And never shall be."
~Frederick W. Robinson, No Man's Friend, 1867
I don't much believe in letters of condolence. Consolation rarely consoles; and nine cases out of ten, when a friend is in trouble where you can't lend him a helping hand, you won't do him much good by dealing him sympathetic gush on mourning
Grief is a burden
but also a friend—
It is not grief that
wounds your heart
but it is grief that
heals your heart.
~Terri Guillemets
To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. ~William Shakespeare, Richard II, c.1595 [I, 3, Henry IV]
Only the soul that knows the mighty grief
Can know the mighty rapture. Sorrows come
To stretch out spaces in the heart for joy.
~Edwin Markham, "Victory in Defeat," 1909
Tearless grief bleeds inwardly. ~Christian Nestell Bovee, Thoughts, Feelings, and Fancies, 1857
...But, O grief,
Where hast thou led me?
~William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, c.1599 [I, 3, Cassius]
He that lacks time to mourn lacks time to mend. ~Henry Taylor
there is no timetable for grieving —
grief is a snail
it's a shooting star
a walk around the lake
it's eternity
or frost till bloom —
memories coursing through the heart
it lasts as many heartbeats as it takes —
sometimes all of them.
~Terri Guillemets, "It's personal," 2020, terriguillemets.com
New Grief awakens the old. ~Proverb
Here, in the cemetery of the past,
All grief is faded to familiar ache...
~Alice Mackenzie Swaim, "Deserted Mansion," Crickets Are Crying Autumn, 1960
There's a curious thing about pain or hardship. In the beginning, it's an enemy, it's something that you don't want to face or think about or deal with. Yet with time it becomes almost a friend. If you've lost someone you love very much, in the beginning you can't bear it, but as the years go by, the pain of losing them is what reminds you so vividly of them — that they were alive. ~Audrey Hepburn, 1990
I am sick of many griefs. ~William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, c.1599 [IV, 3, Brutus]
[S]he subsided into helpless sobs, and on the cold floor she sobbed herself to sleep... In the chill hours of the morning twilight... she awoke... with the clearest consciousness that she was looking into the eyes of sorrow. She rose, and wrapped warm things around her, and seated herself in a great chair... she had waked to a new condition: she felt as if her soul had been liberated from its terrible conflict; she was no longer wrestling with her grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts. ~George Eliot, "Sunset and Sunrise," Middlemarch, 1871
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. ~William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, c.1594 [III, 2, Nurse]
'T is hard to part with one so sudden call'd,
So young, so happy, and so dearly loved;
To see the arrow at our idol hurl'd,
And vainly pray the shaft may be removed.
~Mary Ann H. Dodd Shutts (1813–1878), "The Mourner"
Grief is love expressed in tears. ~Terri Guillemets, "Smoky," 1996
Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows... ~William Shakespeare, Richard II, c.1595 [II, 2, Bushy]
[W]hile men are able to reflect upon their lost companions as remembrances apart from themselves; women, on the other hand, are conscious that a portion of their being has gone with the departed withersoever he has gone. Soul clings to soul; the living dust has a sympathy with the dust of the grave... [A] shadow walks ever by her side, and the touch of a chill hand is on her bosom, yet life, and perchance its natural yearnings, may still be warm within her, and inspire her with new hopes of happiness. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne, "Chippings With a Chisel," 1837
Loss — the great redefiner of life. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
The bird is sad
And so it cries.
Men are silent
Who are wise;
They hide the griefs
That at them pull.
But they make
Nothing beautiful.
~Mary Carolyn Davies, "An Apology for Poets," Youth Riding, 1919
The fire glows warmly upon the accustomed hearth-stone; and — save that vacant place, never to be filled again — a home cheer reigns even in this time of your mourning. The spirit of the lost parent seems to linger over the remnant of the household... It is a holy, and a placid grief that comes over you; — not crushing, but bringing to life from the grave of boyhood, all its better and nobler instincts... There is an effervescence of the spirit, that carries away all foul matter, and leaves you in a state of calm, that seems kindred to the land and to the life, whither the sainted mother has gone. This calm brings a smile in the middle of tears, and an inward looking... and sleep comes like an angelic minister, and caresses your wearied frame and thought into repose.
No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief
Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing—
~Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–1889)
The heart bow'd down by weight of woe,
To weakest hope will cling,
To thought and impulse while they flow,
That no comfort can bring;
With those exciting scenes will blend,
O'er pleasure's pathway thrown,
But memory is the only friend
That grief can call its own.
The mind will, in its worst despair,
Still ponder o'er the past,
On moments of delight that were
Too beautiful to last;
To long-departed years extend,
Its visions, with them flown;
For memory is the only friend
That grief can call its own.
~Alfred Bunn (1796–1860), "The Heart Bowed Down," music by Michael William Balfe
Healing from grief is allowing the courage and purpose within you and the love someone else left you, to merge and create a new sense of being. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
I said to Pain, "I will not have thee here!
The nights are weary and the days are drear
In thy hard company."
He clasped me close and held me still so long
I learned how deep his voice, how sweet his song,
How far his eyes can see.
~Alice Freeman Palmer (1855–1902), "Acquaintance with Grief," A Marriage Cycle, edited and completed by George Herbert Palmer, 1915
Loss is nothing else but change, and change is Nature's delight. ~Marcus Aurelius
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
~William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, c.1594 [III, 5, Juliet]
Grief is historian of the heart. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
What does it comfort me, if still he walks
Beside me all the while, invisibly?
What does it help me, that a dear ghost mocks
Blind eyes with unseen smiles?...
Find the graveward track
And bring my darling back!
~Elizabeth Chase Akers Allen (1832–1911), "Consolation," c.1866
This was the end then — it had killed her, the secret grief... Dead! so young and so beautiful, and died of a broken heart! ~"The Parson's Wife," in The Alexandra Magazine and Englishwoman's Journal, 1865
By... this gleaming perpendicular milky way, his soul was slowly healed; but he was long imprisoned in the dark, cold, serpent's nest of envenomed pains; they entwined and crawled over him, even to his heart. ~Jean Paul Fr. Richter, "501st Station," The Campaner Thal: or, Discourses on the Immortality of the Soul, translated from German by Juliette Bauer
Grief has a wondrous softening:
It betters every soul it sears—
Though it touch commoner or king
He goes more softly all his years.
A softer cadence fills his songs;
A truer grasp is in his hand,
For, out of seeming bitter wrongs,
He comes at last to understand
The heart-beats of his fellow-men,
The clinging of their hopes and fears.
When grief brings him her message, then
He goes more softly all his years.
~Wilbur D. Nesbit, "The Lesson of Grief," c.1904
Jem buried his face in the bedspread to smother a sob. When he put out the light, the dark night would be looking through the window at him and there would be no little yellow dog with two black ears. The cold winter morning would come and there would be no dearest of dogs with the cutest tail. Day would follow day for years and years and there would be no Gyppy to meet him with ecstatic yelps of welcome or to lie at his feet while he slept. He just couldn't bear it. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Ingleside, 1939 [modified
Grief bores holes
in our hearts & heads
like a woodpecker
— peck peck peck
— knock knock knock
You can't make it stop
Eventually it flies away
— but leaves pits
that never fully heal
~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
Grief that takes men by the throat... ~John Robinson Jeffers, "At Playa Hermosa"
...my heart is drown'd with grief,
Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes,
My body round engirt with misery,
For what's more miserable than discontent?
~William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part II, c.1590 [III, 1, Henry VI]
Remember—remember. Those only can know
How dear is remembrance, whose hope is laid low;
'Tis like clouds in the west, that are gorgeous still,
When the dank dews of evening fall deadly and chill.
Like the bow in the cloud that is painted so bright,—
Like the voice of the nightingale, heard through the night,
Oh, sweet is remembrance, most sad though it be,
For remembrance is all that remaineth for me.
~John Ruskin (1819–1900), "Remembrance"
Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
That it runs over even at his eyes.
~William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, c.1599 [V, 5, Clitus]
It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness. ~Cicero, as quoted by W.G. Benham
Why does cold weather refresh old griefs?
More quiet for reflection?
Longer nights to lie awake?
Like citrus, grief is a winter fruit.
~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer
And night doth nightly make grief's strength seem stronger.
~William Shakespeare
Stumbling over all those little moments of grief is just a part of moving forward. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
The shadow of my sorrow! ha! let's see:
'Tis very true, my grief lies all within;
And these external manners of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortured soul...
~William Shakespeare, Richard II, c.1595 [IV, 1, King Richard II]
Each day seems a new beginning, — a new acquaintance with grief. ~George Eliot, 1879
I said to Pain, "I will not have thee here!
The nights are weary and the days are drear
In thy hard company."
He clasped me close and held me still so long
I learned how deep his voice, how sweet his song,
How far his eyes can see.
~Alice Freeman Palmer, "Acquaintance with Grief," A Marriage Cycle, 1915
Grief is a haunted lake that's all too easy to drown in. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture
Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart:
Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen;
For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,
And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief...
~William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part III, c.1590 [II, 1, Richard III – Duke of Gloucester]
A friend dies or leaves us: we feel as if a limb was cut off. ~Thomas Jefferson, 1786
Grief is looking up
to see Never
at your window
rapping on the pane
of your heart.
~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
...allow me to drop a tear over a departed friend, and an honest man... ~Laurence Sterne (1713–1768)
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.
I will not keep this form upon my head,
When there is such disorder in my wit.
O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son!
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world!
My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure!
~William Shakespeare, King John, c.1596 [III, 4, Constance]
Sorrow makes us all children again, — destroys all differences of intellect. The wisest knows nothing. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tears are in my eyes and emptiness is gnawing my heart. ~Kate Stephens, A Woman's Heart, 1906
...throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault:
Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder...
~William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra, c.1606 [IV, 9, Domitius Enobarus]
Why should the grave, O, Lord, divide
Two loyal hearts? Ah, why not take
Both to their home and soothe the ache...
~Kimball Chase Tapley, "Her Grave's Green Side," 1800s
Grief cries pain and sighs love. ~Terri Guillemets
Merciful heaven!
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
~William Shakespeare, Macbeth, c.1605 [IV, 3, Malcolm]
A heavier task could not have been imposed
Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable...
~William Shakespeare, Comedy of Errors, c.1589 [I, 1, Aegeon]
...tell thy grief;
It shall be eased...
~William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part III, c.1590 [III, 3, King Lewis XI]
When you're used to seeing someone day after day, for years on end, and then suddenly they're gone, you
~Terri Guillemets, "Abrupt," 2019, terriguillemets.com
Yet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls,
Not with the empty hollowness, but weight...
~William Shakespeare, Richard II, c.1595 [I, 2, Duchess of Gloucester]
The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. The love that survives the tomb is one of the noblest attributes of the human soul. Where is the mother who would willingly forget the tender infant that perished like a blossom from her arms, though every recollection is a pang? There is the child that would willingly forget a tender parent, though to remember is but to lament? When grief and anguish are calmed into gentle tears of recollection it may sometimes throw a cloud over the hour of gayety or throw a deeper shadow over the hour of gloom; but there is a voice from the tomb sweeter than a song, a remembrance of the dead to which we turn, even from the charms of the living. ~Arthur Warren Overmyer (1879–1952)
Hours, days and months have slowly pass'd,
And years have followed one another;
But still, for thee, my grief doth last—
For thee, my own angelic mother!...
In vain I try to stay my tears,
In vain I seek my grief to smother;
Still through the vista of long years,
Thy form appears, my lovely mother!...
~A. C. D., "My Mother," Affection's Souvenir, 1851
Grief is reading —
over and over again —
the goodbye poem
Death wrote to you.
~Terri Guillemets
Dark was the cloud of grief which enwrapped her soul. ~Charles Gibbon, The Flower of the Forest, 1882
Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
excessive grief the enemy to the living.
~William Shakespeare, All's Well That Ends Well, c.1602 [I, 1, Lafeu]
Grief is all emotions wrapped into one. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
Man, when he does not grieve, hardly exists. ~Antonio Porchia (1886–1968), Voces, 1943–1966, translated from the Spanish by W.S. Merwin (1927–2019), c.1968
I've seen yon weary winter-sun
Twice forty times return;
And ev'ry time has added proofs,
That Man was made to mourn.
~Robert Burns, "Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge," 1784
Alas! man was made, 'tis a truth we well know,
To feel the inflictions engendered below —
The keen pang of Anguish, the chill hand of Want,
The sting which Remorse in the bosom can plant,
And all the sad ills which, in Misery's train,
Come to sicken the heart, and to madden the brain.
But is there no sunshine to burst through the gloom?
Yes! yes! there are times when the spirits are gay,
And heart-gnawing sorrows relinquish their sway;
When a glance of the eye and a smile on the cheek
Are the telltales of raptures no mortal can speak;
When life's heavy cares have deserted the brain,
And moments of bliss cancel ages of pain.
For man, the sun shines on his gold-burnished throne,
And the Seasons strew gifts as they visit each zone;
While every thing lovely on earth and in sky,
Seems formed by enchantment to ravish his eye—
Look, look on the sky—look, look on the earth,
Spring-flower blooms and forest-oak green bursts forth,
There is joy—there is joy—there is exquisite bliss,
When we tranquilly muse on scenes such as this.
To the bright side of life let us ever then turn,
Man was made to rejoice as well as to mourn!
~Henry Heavisides (1791–1870), "Man Was Made to Mourn" [A little altered. Mr Heavisides credits and quotes Mr Burns at the start of the poem, for the inspiration and title.
There's no reason
Grief and Hope
can't be friends.
~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. ~William Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona, c.1594 [III, 2, Proteus]
Sometimes, in times of loss, there are no words, and what sustains you is the presence of friends who wish there was something they could say. ~Robert Brault, rbrault.blogspot.com
Mute grief feels a keener pang than that which cries aloud. ~Publilius Syrus, 1st century BCE, from the Latin by D. Lyman, 1856
Let grief and guilt stay not too long as houseguests. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
No one can keep his griefs in their prime; they use themselves up. The same is true of homesickness, of any nostalgia. Regrets lose their luster, wear themselves out by their own momentum... ~E. M. Cioran, The Temptation to Exist, 1956, translated from the French by Richard Howard
grieving makes us stronger —
it gives us a spirit of grace
and the grace of spirit
our hearts feel weaker
but living past loss is
the ultimate courage
we honor our loved ones
by living on despite —
and all the more because
~Terri Guillemets, "Memorial," 2019, terriguillemets.com
Some griefs are med'cinable; that is one of them,
For it doth physic love...
~William Shakespeare, Cymbeline, c.1609 [III, 2, Imogen]
Oh, most degrading of all ills that wait
On man, a mourner in his best estate!
All other sorrows virtue may endure,
And find submission more than half a cure;
Grief is itself a medicine, and bestow'd
T' improve the fortitude that bears the load,
To teach the wanderer, as his woes increase,
The path of wisdom, all whose paths are peace...
~William Cowper
Love stabs at loss with pangs of past happiness. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
...the very joys of others make my sorrows more intolerable! ~Thomas H. Chivers, letter to Edgar A. Poe, 1842
Immediate grief is a falling to the knees, a bleeding of the heart, a blow to the soul. Ongoing grief is a getting up; a call to move on; a healing and strengthening; a melding of soul with sorrow, with loss, with life; a transforming of self to renewed being, rebuilt with the leavings of another. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
...Verily,
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow...
~William Shakespeare, Henry VIII, c.1612 [II, 3, Anne Bullen]
The dear old soul wept... she was wild with grief, and refused to be comforted. She threw herself on the bed in her room... buried her head in the bedclothes, and sobbed like a broken-hearted child. ~Pliny Berthier Seymour, Woodhull, 1907
The house of grief had no windows. ~Olive Tilford Dargan (1869–1968), "Laughter"
We have learned so many lessons,
Since our heads were bowed in grief,
That have kept our boat from crashing
On life's ragged, rocky reef.
~Gertrude Tooley Buckingham, "To One I Love," 1940s
Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear;
And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war,
Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief.
~William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part III, c.1590 [II, 5, Henry VI]
Grief is a species of idleness. ~Samuel Johnson
Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers... ~William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part II, c.1590 [II, 1, Duke of Gloucester]
The King is mad. How stiff is my vile sense,
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract.
So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
And woes by wrong imaginations lose
The knowledge of themselves.
~William Shakespeare, King Lear, c.1605 [IV, 6, Earl of Gloucester]
When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind,
Leaving free things and happy shows behind;
But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
How light and portable my pain seems now,
When that which makes me bend makes the King bow...
~William Shakespeare, King Lear, c.1605 [III, 6, Edgar]
Sad souls are slain in merry company;
Grief best is pleased with grief's society:
True sorrow then is feelingly sufficed
When with like semblance it is sympathized.
~William Shakespeare, Rape of Lucrece, 1594
Grief has a strange power in opening the hearts of those who sorrow in common.
Grief is your emotions composing a goodbye letter to your loved one. ~Terri Guillemets, terriguillemets.com
'T is grief, but all its bitterness is past;
'T is sorrow, but its murmurings are o'er.
Within my soul, which to the storm was bow'd,
Now the white wing of Peace is folded deep;
And I have found, I trust, behind the cloud,
The blessing promised to the eyes that weep.
So thou wilt find relief. For deepest woe
A fount of healing in our pathway springs...
~Mary Ann H. Dodd Shutts (1813–1878), "The Mourner"
...the art of extracting the vitalizing element of a grief and casting out the useless remainder. ~H. A. Overstreet, About Ourselves: Psychology for Normal People, 1927
Grief has profound value. Grief, and the possibility of it, are what make life precious. ~H. A. Overstreet, About Ourselves: Psychology for Normal People, 1927
The dear brown eyes that had always been lifted to him so trustingly were glazed in death. ~L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Ingleside, 1939
G R i E F —
i feel so tiny inside
~Terri Guillemets
For then, 'tis like I should forget myself:
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
~William Shakespeare, King John, c.1596 [III, 4, Constance]
"Ah!" he added, struggling with his emotion, "my heart has never enjoyed an hour's peace since it pleased God to take your poor mother." ~F. C. Armstrong, The Young Middy, 1867
I pray thee, cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a sieve: give not me counsel;
Nor let no comforter delight mine ear
But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
Bring me a father that so loved his child,
Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him speak of patience;
Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine
And let it answer every strain for strain,
As thus for thus and such a grief for such,
In every lineament, branch, shape, and form:
If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
Bid sorrow wag, cry 'hem!' when he should groan,
Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk
With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.
But there is no such man: for, brother, men
Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
Their counsel turns to passion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
Charm ache with air and agony with words:
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
But no man's virtue nor sufficiency
To be so moral when he shall endure
The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel:
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
~William Shakespeare, Much Ado about Nothing, c.1598 [V, 1, Leonato]
Grief. — hardship, suffering, cause of pain or sorrow; grievance
Grief-shot. — sorrow-stricken
~C. T. Onions, A Shakespeare Glossary, 1911
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published 2000 May 30
last saved 2025 Apr 20
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