Ella Wheeler Wilcox Quotes

Grief is an emotion that's almost unplayable because you're in a separate emotional state; it's an inconsolable emotion.

Music breaks my heart constantly.

All the best songs have an element of sadness.

It tore my heart out, because I heard his voice. The wolves sang slowly behind him, bittersweet harmony, but all I heard was Sam. His howl trembled, rose, fell in anguish. I listened for a long time. I prayed for them to stop, to leave me alone, but at the same time I was desperately afraid they would. Long after the other voices had dropped away, Sam kept howling, very soft and slow. When he finally fell silent, the night felt dead.

One bitter time of mourning, I remember, When day, and night, my sad heart did complain, My life, I said, was one cold, bleak December, And all its pleasures, were but whited pain.

The delta blues is a low-down, dirty shame blues. It's a sad, big wide sound, something to make you think about people who are dead or the women who left you.

I just lost my best friend, I have been crying hysterical for a full day.

I have heartaches, I have blues. No matter what you got, the blues is there. 'Cause that's all I know - the blues. And I can sing the blues so deep until you can have this room full of money and I can give you the blues.

Tears fall in my heart like the rain on the town.

It's the poignancy and sadness in things that gets to me.

Tell me not of joy: there's none Now my little sparrow's gone; He, just as you, Would toy and woo, He would chirp and flatter me, He would hang the wing awhile, Till at length he saw me smile, Lord! how sullen he would be!

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

It was the saddest day of my life.

A loss of a great friend is traumatic and emotionally tough.

I'm here to be lovesick, broke and drifting, writing heartache songs and singing about pain and misery and depression, with a few good times here and there.

He bent and laid his lips on her hands, which were cold and lifeless. She drew them away, and he turned to the door, found his coat and hat under the faint gas-light of the hall, and plunged out into the winter night bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate.

Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp'd no more - Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day.

the sentiment of immediate loss in some sort decayed, while that of utter, irremediable loneliness grew on me with time.

Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness every day.

For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.

From that moment our love became sad, and sadness is a disease which gives the death-blow to affection.

Sorrow is properly that state of the mind in which our desires are fixed upon the past without looking forward to the future.