“There is silent and long-suffering sorrow to be met with among the peasantry. It withdraws into itself and is still. But there is a grief that breaks out, and from that minute it bursts into tears and finds vent in wailing. This is particularly common with women. But it is no lighter a grief than the silent. Lamentations comfort only by lacerating the heart still more. Such grief does not desire consolation. It feeds on the sense of its hopelessness. Lamentations spring only from the constant craving to reopen the wound.”
“Lamentations comfort only by lacerating the heart still more. Such grief does not desire consolation. It feeds on the sense of its hopelessness. Lamentations spring only from the constant craving to re-open the wound.”
“Tears are the silent language of grief”
“From craving is born grief, from craving is born fear. For one freed from craving there's no grief - so how fear?”
“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.”
“The woods were silent in their grief.”