Quotes
Quotes about Sorrow
To banish cares, scare away sorrow and soothe pain is the business of the poet and singer.
Man could not live if he were entirely impervious to sadness. Many sorrows can be endured only by being embraced, and the pleasure taken in them naturally has a somewhat melancholy character. So, melancholy is morbid only when it occupies too much place in life; but it is equally morbid for it to be wholly excluded from life.
From childhood's hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone.
An ounce of mirth is worth a pound of sorrow.
For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.
I have my own particular sorrows, loves, delights; and you have yours. But sorrow, gladness, yearning, hope, love, belong to all of us, in all times and in all places. Music is the only means whereby we feel these emotions in their universality.
The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As long as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.
There is pleasure in calm remembrance of a past sorrow.
Sorrow is better than laughter, for by the sadness of the face the heart is made better.
We tell our triumphs to the crowds, but our own hearts are the sole confidants of our sorrows.
Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength.
A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain, and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain.
Heart's ease! one could look for half a day Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out Full twenty different tales of love and sorrow, That gave this gentle name.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Weep no more, lady, weep no more, Thy sorrowe is in vaine, For violets pluckt, the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow againe.
Patience is sorrow's salve.
Alternative Terror War Tanks rolled over to Jenin and its Refugee Camp As battlefields in a minute Clouds of black smokes belched From the nozzle of the missiles Turned the dwellings into debris And lives breathe under rubble Still desires of living That will never be fulfilled Sighing are heard in the air Unseen ghosts are roaming freely Searching their brotherhoods Living or dead Souls are still weeping bitterly With sorrows that never end In the war turned atmosphere Flying high in the sky appeared The hungry vultures that smell Odors of rotten human flesh As if the open graveyards To wipe the terrors and even its ghosts Out of the worldly atmosphere Reassuring pure peace In every peopleâs mind Isât the rebirth of terror Or alternative terror ? © Pushpa Ratna Tuladhar.
If the secret sorrows of everyone could be read on their forehead, how many who now cause envy would suddenly become the objects of pity.
In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight, And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
Pity the sorrow of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have brought him to your door.
If the secret sorrows of everyone could be read on their forehead, how many who now cause envy would suddenly become the objects of pity.
I walked a mile with Pleasure, She chattered all the way; But left me none the wiser, For all she had to say. I walked a mile with Sorrow And ne'er a word said she; But, oh, the things I learned from her When Sorrow walked with me!
As sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.
In durance vile here must I wake and weep, And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep.
To drink away sorrow.
