When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions!
William ShakespeareTags: sorrows
With subtle and finely-wrought temperaments it is always so. Their strong passions must either bruise or bend. They either slay the man, or themselves die. Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and the sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude.
Oscar WildeTags: shallow sorrows passions loves
Go forth into the busy world and love it. Interest yourself in its life, mingle kindly with its joys and sorrows.
Ralph Waldo EmersonTags: sorrows living-life joys
На солнце... печали и тревоги тают быстрее, чем в тени. Особенно если нет для них понятных причин.
Vladislav KrapivinTags: sorrows
[A] person whose head is bowed and whose eyes are heavy cannot look at the light.
Christine de PizanTags: sadness hope light salvation oppression grief eyes hopelessness sorrows burdens subjection
It was a life, she eventually concluded, that had been lived in the middle ground, where contentment and love were found in the smallest details of people's lives. It was a life of dignity and honor, not without sorrows yet fulfilling in a way that few experiences ever were.
Nicholas SparksTags: life love contentment honor sorrows dignity fulfilling
The longer you live, the more mistakes you make. And the more sorrows you carry.
Nalini SinghTags: mistakes sorrows bhie nalini-singh illium
The first sorrow of autumn is the slow good-bye of the garden that stands so long in the evening—a brown poppy head, the stalk of a lily, and still cannot go.
The second sorrow is the empty feet of a pheasant who hangs from a hook with his brothers. The woodland of gold is folded in feathers with its head in a bag.
And the third sorrow is the slow good-bye of the sun who has gathered the birds and who gathers the minutes of evening, the golden and holy ground of the picture.
The fourth sorrow is the pond gone black, ruined, and sunken the city of water—the beetle's palace, the catacombs of the dragonfly.
And the fifth sorrow is the slow good-bye of the woodland that quietly breaks up its camp. One day it's gone. It has only left litter—firewood, tent poles.
And the sixth sorrow is the fox's sorrow, the joy of the huntsman, the joy of the hounds, the hooves that pound; till earth closes her ear to the fox's prayer.
And the seventh sorrow is the slow good-bye of the face with its wrinkles that looks through the window as the year packs up like a tatty fairground that came for the children.
Tags: autumn sorrows good-bye hughes seven ted
It would be nice if life worked this way, stripping the dirt from our lives and sending us back out into the world clean. But some dirt is destined to lingered.
Veronica RothTags: life inspiration problems depression sorrows struggles
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