I do not grieve in the abstract, but in the heart.

He never ast me nothing bout myself. He clam on top of me and fuck and fuck, even when my head bandaged. Nobody ever love me, I say.

The death of my father is probably the biggest thing that I ever faced. Daddy and I were best friends.

I too complain ceaselessly in my heart and in my words too. My very life is a protest. Against government, for instance.

When you have feelings like sadness or anger about your cancer or your plight, to mask them is to lead an artificial life.

This embodied [soul] is eternally unslayableIn the body of everyone, son of Bharata;Therefore all beingsThou shouldst not mourn.Likewise having regard for thine own [caste] dutyThou shouldst not tremble;For another, better thing than a fight required of dutyExists not for a warrior.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis [Eternal rest give them, O Lord: and let perpetual light shine upon them].

It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting.

Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.

Those who have lost an infant are never, as it were, without an infant child. Their other children grow into manhood and womanhood, and suffer all the changes of mortality; but this one alone is rendered an immortal child; for death has arrested it with its kindly harshness, and blessed it into an eternal image of youth and innocence.

How many others suffered in silence, too ashamed and too afraid to speak about their pain? The world wouldn't let them grieve for children they had aborted. How could they when the rhetoric said there was no child? How does one grieve what doesn't exist? No one wanted to admit the truth.

We grieve for those we've lost, but it's the living that cause us the most pain....