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.
When you are sorrowful, look again.
He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.
Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of trauma, I will fear no concussion.
A horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
A well-spent day brings happy sleep.
For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.
He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
As a well spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
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.
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.
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.
In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.