Pastoral Resources

You don't go around grieving all the time, but the grief is still there and always will be.

I feel like the writer observing the grief, but it is difficult to be detached from it.

The only cure for grief is action.

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

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.

Grief can't be shared. Everyone carries it alone. His own burden in his own way.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how.

Well the themes for me were and remain sex and love and grief and death - the things that make us and undo us, create and destroy, how we breed and disappear and the emotional context that surrounds these events.

Politicians... talk in generalities and lies, and I think they've caused all our grief. They're so awful, they're really funny. I hate thinking this because my dad loved politics.

The fact is that a man who wants to act virtuously in every way necessarily comes to grief among so many who are not virtuous.

When a child can be brought to tears, and not from fear of punishment, but from repentance he needs no chastisement. When the tears begin to flow from the grief of their conduct you can be sure there is an angel nestling in their heart.

Grief is only the memory of widowed affections.

Toil is man's allotment; toil of brain, or toil of hands, or a grief that's more than either, the grief and sin of idleness.

If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble.

Beauty is ever to the lonely mind a shadow fleeting; she is never plain. She is a visitor who leaves behind the gift of grief, the souvenir of pain.

I am certain that I speak on behalf of my entire nation when I say: September 11th we are all Americans - in grief, as in defiance.

The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing... not healing, not curing... that is a friend who cares.

Grief, and an estate, is joy understood.

Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is forced to multiply its strength.