#grief

In our culture I think most people think of grief as sadness, and that's certainly part of it, a large part of it, but there's also this thorniness, these edges that come out. ↗

— Anthony Rapp

#certainly #come #culture #edges #grief

I have always fought for ideas - until I learned that it isn't ideas but grief, struggle, and flashes of vision which enlighten. ↗

— Margaret Anderson

#enlighten #flashes #fought #grief #i

And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper. I have an affection for it, for it was the offspring of happy days, when death and grief were but words, which found no true echo in my heart. ↗

— Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

#again #bid #days #death #echo

The grief of the keen is no personal complaint for the death of one woman over eighty years, but seems to contain the whole passionate rage that lurks somewhere in every native of the island. ↗

— John Millington Synge

#contain #death #eighty #every #grief

Viewed from a distance, or through the eye of the All-Knowing CEO of the Universe, the crash of 2008 followed the usual pattern. A long-lived boom driven by cheap credit, going back as far as 1982 (though subject to interruptions in the mid-1980s and 1990s, and in 2001), came to grief because of a rise in the cost of borrowing money. ↗

— James Buchan

#back #because #boom #borrowing #came

And I can't be running back and fourth forever between grief and high delight. ↗

— J.D. Salinger

#confusion #grief #happiness #running

But I understood, now, that we don’t live only for ourselves. We’re connected by millions of shared experiences and dreams and nightmares, all tied together with compassion. I learned that even when we’re going through our darkest winter, spring is waiting to appear. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#grief #healing #laura-anderson-kurk #love #romance

But grief is the ultimate unrequited love. However hard and long we love someone who has died, they can never love us back. At least that is how it feels... ↗

— Rosamund Lupton

#love

The only language she could speak was grief. How could he not know that? Instead, she said, "I love you." She did. She loved him. But even that didn't feel like anything anymore. ↗

— Ann Hood

#love

I thought about how the past can become so small. An entire day, 24 separate, heavy hours, becomes the size of a tiny brown leaf falling from a tree. Before you know it, a whole year is just a pile of dead leaves on the ground. The year or so I’d spent in love with Chad was starting to feel so long ago, swept away by the wind. I knew that this year would soon feel far away too. ↗

— Kimberly Novosel

#healing #in-love #leaves #love #pain