#mourning

Mourning is not forbidden, you know. ↗

— Simin Daneshvar

#know #mourning #you

Great were the lamentation and the cry when the news of this mischance was noised about the city. Such a tumult of mourning was never before heard, for the whole city was moved. ↗

— Marie de France

#before #city #cry #great #heard

We carry the dead with us only until we die too, and then it is we who are borne along for a little while, and then our bearers in their turn drop, and so on into the unimaginable generations. ↗

— John Banville

#death #grief #immortality #life-goes-on #loss

Yes. We both have a bad feeling. Tonight we shall take our bad feelings and share them, and face them. We shall mourn. We shall drain the bitter dregs of mortality. Pain shared, my brother, is pain not doubled, but halved. No man is an island. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#mourning #pain #sharing #mourning

Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning; for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men. ↗

— Quintus Ennius

#celebrate #funeral #i #live #me

Sunlight’s warmth on my face awoke me in the morning. I didn’t remember falling asleep or how I came to be in my own bed. But I did recall nightmares featuring Gwen. Awful nightmares that shared the same fatal ending. I turned my head to stare out an open window. The sun shone in full splendor outside, bleaching a clear sky enough to tell it was going to be a beautiful spring day. The air smelled of rain from overnight showers, mixed with a strong floral scent. A large lilac bush below my window was responsible for the perfume. I breathed in the clean and fragrant air. My eyelids fluttered, blinking at a stunning reflection of daylight off the glass. The pale blue sky beyond gave an exquisite glow to my room. All of it invited the soul to bask in a new day. But not me. None of that mattered to me. The world might as well come to a dark and ugly end. I saw no reason for beauty or life to go on so long as Gwen was lost. Rolling over in bed, I felt the vice grips wrench at my heart again as I cried myself back to sleep. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#gwen #heartache #loss #mourning #richelle

and he suddenly knew that if she killed herself, he would die. Maybe not immediately, maybe not with the same blinding rush of pain, but it would happen. You couldn't live for very long without a heart. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#heart #love #mourning #suicide #death

Even her name seemed empty, as though it had detached itself from her and was floating untethered in his mind. How am I supposed to live without you? It was not a matter of the body; his body would carry on as usual. The problem was located in the word how: he would live, but without Elspeth the flavour, the manner, the method of living were lost to him. He would have to relearn solitude. ↗

— Audrey Niffenegger

#longing #mourning #death

Lady Moon rose an' gazed o'er my busted'n'beautsome Valleys with silv'ry'n'sorryin' eyes, an' the dingos mourned for the died uns. ↗

— David Mitchell

#death #description #destruction #moon #mourning

Death moved in the night, in search for blood, and when it found Life, it passed on by, like a cloud that moves by the face of the moon. When he found those dead without the red, he took the life before them born first, and the mourning emptied itself till the morning. ↗

— Anthony Liccione

#blood #exodus #freedom #israel #life