We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
Although no words can really help to ease the loss you bear, Just know that you are very close in every thought and prayer. To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains.
Like a bird singing in the rain, let grateful memories survive in time of sorrow.
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.
For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.
Strengthen me by sympathizing with my strength, not my weakness.
All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming.
Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.
There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery.
Sorrow can be alleviated by good sleep, a bath and a glass of wine.
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
Tears are sometimes an inappropriate response to death. When a life has been lived completely honestly, completely successfully, or just completely, the correct response to death's perfect punctuation mark is a smile.
It is not length of life, but depth of life.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.
He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
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 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.
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.
What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
He kept at true good humor's mark The social flow of pleasure's tide: He never made a brow look dark, Nor caused a tear, but when he died.
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