It is the will of God and Nature that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life; 'tis rather an embrio state, a preparation for living; a man is not completely born until he be dead: Why then should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals?
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.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
Until one has loved an animal a part of one's soul remains unawakened.
A horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
Wherever you are you will always be in my heart.
There is no death, only a change of worlds.
Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of trauma, I will fear no concussion.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.
Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed; I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn.
We understand death only after it has placed its hands on someone we love.
Tears are God's gift to us. Our holy water. They heal us as they flow.
I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.
Sympathy does not think. It acts. It acts to remove. The ceaseless sufferings. Of the world
When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there, I did not die.
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
A well-spent day brings happy sleep.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
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.
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
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