They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies.
I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love.
That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. 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 curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.
Friends share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand.
Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of trauma, I will fear no concussion.
The only cure for grief is action.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.
The pain passes, but the beauty remains.
No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
Grief is a most peculiar thing; we’re so helpless in the face of it. It’s like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it.
They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.
Wherever you are you will always be in my heart.
I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness and the willingness to remain vulnerable.
Why bad things happen to good people
One can choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances.
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