To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes read more

To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes the ability to experience happiness

The purpose of a funeral service is to comfort the living. It is important at a funeral to display excessive read more

The purpose of a funeral service is to comfort the living. It is important at a funeral to display excessive grief. This will show others how kind-hearted and loving you are and their improved opinion of you will be very comforting.

Light griefs are communicative, great ones stupefy.
[Lat., Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.]

Light griefs are communicative, great ones stupefy.
[Lat., Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.]

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion read more

Let me moderate our sorrows. The grief of a man should not
exceed proper bounds, but be in proportion to the blow he has
received.
[Lat., Ponamus nimios gemitus: flagrantior aequo
Non debet dolor esse viri, nec vulnere major.]

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

That grief is light which can take counsel.
[Lat., Levis est dolor qui capere consilium potest.]

That grief is light which can take counsel.
[Lat., Levis est dolor qui capere consilium potest.]

Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep read more

Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep the world in such a strain
As it should deluge once again;
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds
And write thy epitaph in blood and wounds.

O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
read more

O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.