May Sarton Quotes

They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-strings.

And I can't be running back and fourth forever between grief and high delight.

If I call it pain, and try to touch it With my hands, my own life, It lies still and the music thins, A pulse felt for through garments.

Cries of despair, misery, sobbing grief are a kind of wealth.

It is those who make the least display of their sorrow who mourn the deepest.

Sorrow makes us all children again.

The sky was electric blue above the trees but the yard felt dark. Stephanie went to the edge of the lawn and sat her forehead on her knees. The grass and soil were still warm from the day. She wanted to cry but she couldn't. The feeling was too deep.

Grief remains one of the few things that has the power to silence us.

Grief is a bad moon, a sleeper wave. It's like having an inner combatant, a saboteur who, at the slightest change in the sunlight, or at the first notes of a jingle for a dog food commercial, will flick the memory switch, bringing tears to your eyes.

Men are much oftener thrown on their knees by the melancholy than by the agreeable passions.

Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy.

Striving to tell his woes, words would not come; For light cares speak, when mighty griefs are dumb.

Anger tears me up inside... My own... or anyone else's.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

I lay in bed at night crying to myself. The only one who loved me and watched over me was someone I couldn't see or hear or touch.

The easiest thing to feel is sadness.

When I'm in pain and grief and despair, my throat is clenched and my heart hurts.

My heart's been torn wide open, just like I feared it would be, and I have no willpower to close it back up.

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

The very word "sorrow" colours the fact of sorrow, the pain of it.

Indeed — why should I not admit it? — in that moment, my heart was breaking.

Grief remains one of the few things that has the power to silence us. It is a whisper in the world and a clamor within. More than sex, more than faith, even more than its usher death, grief is unspoken, publicly ignored except for those moments at the funeral that are over too quickly, or the conversations among the cognoscenti, those of us who recognize in one another a kindred chasm deep in the center of who we are.

My greatest affliction... is perhaps the major theme of my writings, the affliction of loneliness that follows me like a shadow, a very ponderous shadow too heavy to drag after me all of my days and nights.