The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -But the pain of griefIs only a read more

The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -But the pain of griefIs only a shadowWhen compared with the painOf never risking love.

When we hear oxymoron
we think that those
who eat oxen become morons
.. their brains occluded
by animal fat
read more

When we hear oxymoron
we think that those
who eat oxen become morons
.. their brains occluded
by animal fat
.. cannot receive oxygen
When we hear Oxfam
we think famine..
that those who promote
oxeating
create famine.

Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common read more

Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys. -Alphonse de Lamartine.

She grieves sincerely who grieves unseen.
[Lat., Illa dolet vere qui sine teste dolet.]

She grieves sincerely who grieves unseen.
[Lat., Illa dolet vere qui sine teste dolet.]

Well has it been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.

Well has it been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.

While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement read more

While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.

Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er read more

Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er had roost
Nor found an olive-leaf.

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.]

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.