We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.
A great sorrow, and one that I am only beginning to understand: we don’t get to choose our own hearts. We can’t make ourselves want what’s good for us or what’s good for other people. We don’t get to choose the people we are.
Sorrow is implicit in love as gravitation is implicit in mass.
Sorrows are like thunderclouds, in the distance they look black, over our heads scarcely gray.
Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down.
Sorrow is a kind of rust of the soul, which every new idea contributes in its passage to scour away. It is the putrefaction of stagnant life, and is remedied by exercise and motion.
This sorrow weighs upon the melancholy souls of those who lived without infamy or praise.
I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
Sorrow is knowledge, those that know the most must mourn the deepest, the tree of knowledge is not the tree of life.
Sorrows cannot all be explained away in a life truly lived, grief and loss accumulate like possessions.
It is only in sorrow bad weather masters us; in joy we face the storm and defy it.
Sorrow makes us all children again -
destroys all differences of intellect.
The wisest know nothing.
Sorrow spares no one, and scars respect no person.
Sorrow is properly that state of the mind in which our desires are fixed upon the past without looking forward to the future.
Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.
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 is tranquility remembered in emotion.
Sorrow makes men sincere.
It's the sorrow you feel that allows you to crave love. Without the suffering, there would be no true pleasure. Without tears, no joy. Without deficiency, no longing. This is the secret of the human heart, Rom.
Whenever sorrow comes, be kind to it.
For God has placed a pearl in sorrow’s hand.
Sorrow is how we learn to love. Your heart isn't breaking. It hurts because it's getting larger. The larger it gets, the more love it holds.
A man's sorrow runs uphill; true it is difficult for him to bear, but it is also difficult for him to keep.
Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy.
Sorrow may be a good thing for a woman's heart, but it is a poor cosmetic for her face.
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