#grief

How do people know they are sane? Can a person be gripped by lunacy, only to be released a short time later, never to relive the episode again? ↗

— Dee Remy

#insanity #loss #love #madness #mind-body-spirit

She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it. ↗

— Jeffrey Eugenides

#marriage

You know, through pain, you learn a lot about yourself--things you thought you never knew you wanted to learn. And it's kind of like those animals that regrow a part of their body--like a starfish. You might not feel it. You might not even want to grow, but you will. You'll grow that part that broke off, and that growing, that blooming--cannot happen without the pain. ↗

— Kelle Hampton

#growth-process #life-changes #painful-memories #beauty

Fire tests gold, suffering tests brave men. ↗

— Lucius Annaeus Seneca

#grief #hardship #misfortune #sorrow #suffering

The ocean-blue bowl won’t refuse to bruise, won’t hold it back from the gaping earth-wounds. There will still come water, chill wind and happy goosebumps, and in the utmost corners of oaks, leaves laughing. ↗

— Bryana Johnson

#grief #nature #nevertheless-come-autumn #poetry #nature

Conner hadn’t liked leaving the gravesite with his father still not buried. But he’d learned from his grandmother’s funeral that you have to go. It’s expected. Nobody hangs around the cemetary. Grief—a little or a lot—is tucked into your pocket and carried away. ↗

— Kathleen Jeffrie Johnson

#grief #death

It is poor solace to speak of the passing of time and grief," the master said. His quiet voice had gone somehow bleak, though Araene could not decide where in his unchanging tone the difference lay. "We do not wish our grief to fade, for it marks the love and honor in which we held our lost kinsmen. Nevertheless, permit me to assure you that while you may find peace a barren desert, yet eventually it may bloom. ↗

— Rachel Neumeier

#grief #death

Why write wrong if the writing won’t right the wrong? (90) ↗

— Sandra M. Gilbert

#grieving #writing #death

Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands. ↗

— Markus Zusak

#walking

I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, hoever, turns out to be not a state but a process. ↗

— C.S. Lewis

#process #sorrow #observation