Philip Sidney Quotes

So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her love.

When you lose a person you love so much, surviving the loss is difficult.

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!

Losing someone you love is tough.

A loss, but who still mourns the breath of one woman, or laments one wife? Though my heart never can forget, how, for one look, she gave up her life.

I was terribly wounded by my wife's death.

When Clark Gable died, I cried for 2 days straight. I couldn't eat or sleep.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

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.

Losing my mum. That was a punch-me moment.

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

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

Irrespective of age, we mourn for those loved and lost. Mourning is one of the deepest expressions of pure love.

It is something you can't predict, and it is the huge sadness in your life, losing a child.

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

It must be sad to outlive aught we love.

I'll be damned if death wears my sadness for glad rags.

My best girl is dead.

He stopped loving her today, they placed a wreath upon his door.

This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

There was a lot they didn’t tell you about death, she had discovered, and one of the biggies was how long it took the ones you loved most to die in your heart.

How futile are words in the ears of those who mourn.

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.

Julia looked back at Hadassah on the bloodstained sand. A great emptiness opened within her as she looked at the still form. Gone, too, was the salt that had kept her from completely corruption.

If a man will observe as he walks the streets, I believe he will find the merriest countenances in mourning coaches.