GRIEF
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I think the slain Care little if they sleep or rise again;
And we, the living, wherefore should we ache
With counting all our lost ones?—AESCHYLUS, Agamemnon
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'Twill grieve me so to the heart, that I shall cry my eyes out.—CERVANTES, Don Quixote
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Grief tires more than anything, and brings a deeper slumber.—GEORGE DU MAURIER, Trilby
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One gives people in grief their own way.—MRS. GASKELL, Cranford
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In all the silent manliness of grief.—GOLDSMITH, The Deserted Village
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Great grief is a divine and terrible radiance which transfigures the wretched.—VICTOR HUGO, Les Miserables
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While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates.—SAMUEL JOHNSON, Boswell: Life
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Love hath no physic for a grief too deep.—ROBERT NATHAN, A Cedar Box
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Because my grief seems quiet and apart,
Think not for such a reason it is less.
True sorrow makes a silence in the heart,
Joy has its friends, but grief its loneliness.—ROBERT NATHAN, A Cedar Box
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Was there love once? I have forgotten her.
Was there grief once? grief yet is mine.—ROBERT NICHOLS, Fulfilment
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Happiness is beneficial for the body but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind.—MARCEL PROUST, The Past Recaptured
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The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.—SHAKESPEARE, All's Well that Ends Well
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A plague of sighing and grief!
It blows a man up like a bladder.—SHAKESPEARE, Henry IV
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What private griefs they have, alas! I know not.—SHAKESPEARE, Julius Caesar
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Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form.—SHAKESPEARE, King John
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I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.—SHAKESPEARE, King John
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Every one can master a grief but he that has it.—SHAKESPEARE, Much Ado About Nothing
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Patch grief with proverbs.—SHAKESPEARE, Much Ado About Nothing
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Men
Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel.—SHAKESPEARE, Much Ado About Nothing
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My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.—SHAKESPEARE, Sonnet L
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