Dorothy Parker Quotes

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.

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.

There are moments when the grief comes bubbling up. The first time I saw Chris's chair empty, that was really hard. And it was hard when I started folding up some of his sweaters that I so imagine him wearing.

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

I know what my heart is like Since your love died: It is like a hollow ledge Holding a little pool Left there by the tide, A little tepid pool, Drying inward from the edge.

A face peered. All the grey night In chaos of vacancy shone; Nought but vast Sorrow was there The sweet cheat gone.

If you no longer live, if you my beloved, my love, if you have died, all the leaves will fall in my breast, it will rain in my soul night and day, the snow will burn my heart, I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow, my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping, but I shall live

My mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.

It had ceased raining in the night and he walked out on the road and called for the dog. He called and called. Standing in that inexplicable darkness. Where there was no sound anywhere save only the wind. After a while he sat in the road. He took off his hat and placed it on the tarmac before him and he bowed his head and held his face in his hands and wept. He sat there for a long time and after a while the east did gray and after a while the right and godmade sun did rise, once again, for all and without distinction.

Nothing remained but loneliness and grief.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

Getting through the nights is the toughest part. Being alone. Not having her there to talk to.

When you left on Saturday, I felt a horrible void, I saw you everywhere, on the beach, in your room, in the garden: impossible for me to get used to the idea that you had left.

Widow. The word consumes itself.

Grief is so human, and it hits everyone at one point or another, at least, in their lives. If you love, you will grieve, and that's just given.

'Blue Nights' is a story of loss: simple, wrenching, inconsolable loss.

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

I hate death; it takes people away from you. You're left feeling rudderless.

A very powerful theme in fiction is that of loss.

When thinking about companions gone, we feel ourselves doubly alone.

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.

Memory, in widow's weeds, with naked feet stands on a tombstone.

When the people you love are gone, you're alone.

When you love someone, and you've lost that one, then nothing really matters.