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We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.
Sep 26, 2025
Those who have suffered understand suffering and therefore extend their hand.
Grieving allows us to heal, to remember with love rather than pain. It is a sorting process. One by one you let go of the things that are gone and you mourn for them. One by one you take hold of the things that have become a part of who you are and build again.
They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite
Real grief is not healed by time... if time does anything, it deepens our grief. The longer we live, the more fully we become aware of who she was for us, and the more intimately we experience what her love meant for us. Real, deep love is, as you know, very unobtrusive, seemingly easy and obvious, and so present that we take it for granted. Therefore, it is only in retrospect - or better, in memory - that we fully realize its power and depth. Yes, indeed, love often makes itself visible in pain.
If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble.
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.
No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.
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.
There is a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.
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
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.
Grief is the price we pay for 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.
When you are sorrowful, look again.
Death cannot kill what never dies.
The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude.
Grief is not a disorder, a disease or sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.
They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death cannot kill what never dies.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.
In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.
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.
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.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
The pain passes, but the beauty remains.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.
I still miss those I loved who are no longer with me but I find I am grateful for having loved them. The gratitude has finally conquered the loss.
You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.
Why bad things happen to good people
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.
One can choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, how it holds you in place.
Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
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.
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.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.
The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.
The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of those depths.
In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.
The only cure for grief is action.
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.
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle 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...that is a friend who cares.
Friends share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand.
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.