Sorrow Quotes

I miss you every minute of every day. If I could miss you more than that, I would.

Someday, we’ll run into each other again, I know it.
Maybe I’ll be older and smarter and just plain better. If that happens,
that’s when I’ll deserve you. But now, at this moment, you can’t hook
your boat to mine, because I’m liable to sink us both.

It’s not that we have to quit this life one day, it’s how many things we have to quit all at once: holding hands, hotel rooms, music, the physics of falling leaves, vanilla and jasmine, poppies, smiling, anthills, the color of the sky, coffee and cashmere, literature, sparks and subway trains... If only one could leave this life slowly!

Though sorrow may impede my heart,
It is of great love to have known you.

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.

Sorrow looks back, Worry looks around, Faith looks up

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.

There's release in knowing the truth no matter how anguishing it is. You come finally to the irreducible thing, and there's nothing left to do but pick it up and hold it. Then, at last, you can enter the severe mercy of acceptance.

They'll say you are bad
or perhaps you are mad
or at least you
should stay undercover.
Your mind must be bare
if you would dare
to think you can love
more than one lover.

It is what it is. Isn't that how these things always go? They are what they are. We just get to cope.

If you only knew how to respect my heart, I wouldn't have found a reason to let you go.

No time for happiness, no time for sorrow. Work is the best of physicians.

Regret fills your heart, only if you do not give your best to accomplish something.

There are times that the emotions we keep in our hearts, no matter how abundant, are better left unexpressed.

Amidst the chaos of the cities, a part of you always yearns for the silence of the woods.

I'll use the blood from my spilling heart to write the words that were never able to slip out of my mouth, so you can see how much you've broken me into a perpetual state of melancholy.

Dreams and Happiness are...drugs. And the pain that follows is not less than a sharp knife...or a sharp-nail. It bleeds without blood. You just feel it. With every sense you have got, on every single inch of earth, in every tiny part of the minute you live. It compels you to feed...yourself...

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.

Someday, beyond the clouds and all the world's wrongs, there will be love, compassion and justice, and we shall all understand.

Too many are sorry where they should be assertive, and nearly moved to aggressive radical action, where they should be apologizing to themselves first, and then the world at large.