Henry Rollins Quotes

They have - they do still hit me occasionally, and it's an overwhelming grief for what - even though my life is so good now, even including going through treatment for cancer, my life is incredible.

For quite a while, it didn't feel right. How could I feel joy when I lost the love of my life? I'm learning that those two things can co-exist. It will never be the same joy, but it doesn't mean there won't be joy.

It would be a lie to say that people are coming to adoption with joy at all times. Hope, perhaps, but it would be disingenuous to say that every part coming to an adoption isn't seriously grieving.

In the midst of the sense of tragedy or loss, sometimes laughter is not only healing, it's a way of experiencing the person that you've lost again.

May God forgive us for the times when we as individuals and as a Church failed to seek out and care for those little ones who were frightened, alone and in pain because someone was abusing them. That we did not always respond to your cries with the concern of the Good Shepherd is a matter of deep shame.

September 11 reinforced for me that whatever I'm writing about, it better be something that really matters to me because we don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. And for me it's stories about people in pain in New York.

Most things break, including hearts. The lessons of life amount not to wisdom, but to scar tissue and callus.

My mom died when I was 8.

The storm came. Lives were washed away. Ancient pains resurfaced. Now it is time for a sea of change.

I think everyone understands grief, the journey it takes us on, whether it's the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, a disappointment. Some people don't deal with it, the power of it. Some do. Some feel the weight of it and it informs their choices. I've had to open up to grief in different contexts.

My earliest memories are the best. I always try to remember the good times when Daddy was alive.

What is taken away is greater than the sum of what was there. This may not be mathematically possible; but it is emotionally possible.

We all had lots of stories of our sad experiences - they mourned the death of my wife with me - but we were hopeful that the children would return.

Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself.

Grief changes shape, but it never ends.

Cancer is a very sad thing, but you can always take something from every experience.

My parents' divorce left me with a lot of sadness and pain and acting, and especially humour, was my way of dealing with all that.

My son died from cancer. My granddaughter died from cancer. I have a lot of reasons to think that reality is not a friendly neighborhood. And the stories that I tell distract me, and if I do the job right, they distract people from things that are happening to them that they wish had never happened.

I've seen so many women in my family, so many mothers, that have lost children in the war in such absurd ways. I wonder how they do it. How do they keep living? How do they keep smiling?

I think that no human gets away unscathed in this old life. We've all experienced loss and grief and pain and tragedy.

I never meant to write about the experience of losing a good friend to breast cancer when I was going through it. But after it was over, I realized that although something deeply sad had happened, something truly beautiful also had.

I try to weigh out the dark and the light. They were both very real aspects of my Dad. To me, the good and the healing and the light outweigh the dark so much, and that's why I focus on the good.

My father passed away when I was 18. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but it is not like that all the time. Not every moment is dark.

My brother dying changed me. I didn't realize how strong I was until I lost my brother.

Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes part of you, step for step, breath for breath.