A long disease seems to be a halting place between life and death, that death itself may be a comfort to those who die and to those who are left behind.
There is hardly any grief that an hour's reading will not dissipate.
Grief is put to flight and assuaged by generous draughts.
Our beloved ones have not 'gone to a far country.' It is only the veil of sense that separates them from us, and even that veil grows thin when our thoughts reach out to them.
Only the Holy Spirit can comfort a person in the depths of grief.
The dead are celebrated. The dead are loved. They give something to the living. Once you put something into the ground, Doctor, you always know where to find it.
Wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
I believe that our friends among the dead really mind us and look out for us. Often there might be a big boulder of misery over your path about to fall on you, but your friends among the dead hold it back until you have passed by.
They who stand with breaking hearts around this little grave, need have no fear. The larger and the nobler faith in all that is, and is to be, tells us that death, even at its worst, is only perfect rest ... The dead do not suffer.
Animals of every kind live on the Other Side, .. you are not crazy if you feel the spirit of your cat rubbing against your legs, hear the sound of your dog's toenails clicking on the wood floor, or hear the familiar song your bird used to sing. Our pets do come back to visit us.
