Adelaide Anne Procter Quotes

One feels as if it could never, never be less. And yet all griefs, when there is no bitterness in them, are soothed down by time.

Time takes away the grief of men.

They say that time heals a broken heart, but time has stood still since we've been apart.

Time will cure you, but now is your grief still young.

all griefs, when there is no bitterness in them, are soothed down by time.

I think that people always say when people pass away that time heals all wounds. And that's probably the biggest lie. It's not true. I think we all need to remember that it is always still tough, and it's like losing a piece of your heart.

Never does one feel oneself so utterly helpless as in trying to speak comfort for great bereavement. I will not try it. Time is the only comforter for the loss of a mother.

I've never lost a grown-up child, but I have known loss.

I lost my husband, and it's a horrific thing to live through.

Grief is bizarre territory because there's no predicting how long it'll take to get over certain things. You just don't know how long it's going to resound in your life.

It took about five years until we were properly over Freddie's passing. You learn to live with it.

They say time heals all wounds, but sometimes you wonder.

When you lose a mother or father, it's still the hardest time of your life.

Time apparently did nothing but blunt grief’s sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced.

T is the work of many a dark hour, many a prayer, to bring the heart back from an infant gone.

There is no grief which time does not lessen and soften.

Cripple crow say something for our grieving, where do we go once we start leaving. Well close that wound or else keep on bleeding and change your tune, it's got no meaning.

It is said that mourning, by its gradual labour, slowly erases pain; I could not, I cannot believe this; because for me, Time eliminates the emotion of loss (I do note weep), that is all. For the rest, everything has remained motionless. For what I have lost is not a Figure (the Mother), but a being; and not a being, but a quality (a soul): not the indispensable, but the irreplaceable.

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.

Bones heal, but the loss of my friend will never heal.

Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.

Receding from grief, it seems necessary to retrace the same steps that brought us there.

Grief! thou art classed amongst the depressing passions. And true it is that thou humblest to the dust, but also thou exaltest to the clouds. Thou shakest us with ague, but also thou steadiest like frost. Thou sickenest the heart, but also thou healest its infirmities.

The worst of it is over now, and I can't say that I am glad. Lose that sense of loss—you have gone and lost something else. But the body moves toward health. The mind, too, in steps. One step at a time. Ask a mother who has just lost a child, How many children do you have? "Four," she will say, "—three," and years later, "Three," she will say, "—four.