Death ends a life, not a relationship.
What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.
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.
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.
It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.
God's finger touched him, and he slept.
He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
Those we love don't go away, they sit beside us every day.
There is no death, only a change of worlds.
The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.
In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.
A human life is a story told by God.
Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains.
Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us; our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life.
What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.
He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.
For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.
With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day, Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!
Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed; I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn.
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.
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.
The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude.
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