Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
Until one has loved an animal a part of one's soul remains unawakened.
A horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
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.
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.
We understand death only after it has placed its hands on someone we love.
Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of trauma, I will fear no concussion.
Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.
I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
Sympathy does not think. It acts. It acts to remove. The ceaseless sufferings. Of the world
A well-spent day brings happy sleep.
Tears are God's gift to us. Our holy water. They heal us as they flow.
Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
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.
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