Great pain is repetitive. Grief is repetitive. — Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
Great pain is repetitive. Grief is repetitive. — Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
Great pain is repetitive. Grief is repetitive. — Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
Great pain is repetitive. Grief is repetitive. — Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
Great pain is repetitive. Grief is repetitive. — Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
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Great pain is repetitive. Grief is repetitive.

— Sherman Alexie, You Don't Have to Say You Love Me
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grief grieving

More “Grief” Quotes

It was a fact that had become the focus of my entire life, a whisper in my heartbeat, a permanent, insidious presence th — Hazel Butler, Chasing Azrael
No, it really isn't, but trust me, getting divorced and having to start over is the least in life that isn't fair. I had — Jay Crownover, Nash
It occurred to me that grief is like a tunnel. You enter it without a choice because you must get to the other side. The — Loretta Nyhan, Empire Girls
I felt like I was being carried over the threshold of a sisterhood of loss. I knew I was not walking alone, and that eve — Anna White, Mended: Thoughts on Life, Love, and Leaps of Faith
There is no loss, if you cannot remember what you have lost. — Claire North, The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August
There was no more meaningless phrase in all of language than "Cheer up!" The only way to get someone to cheer up was to — Kōji Suzuki, Spiral
I was sprawled out in my usual position on the couch, half asleep but entirely drunk, torturing myself by tearing memori — Jonathan Tropper, How to Talk to a Widower
Rain is a lullaby heard through a thick, isolating blanket of clouds. It is the tinkling harp of water droplets; a moist — Richelle E. Goodrich, Smile Anyway
Time is ungovernable, but grief presents us with a choice: what do we do with the savage energies of bereavement? What d — Antonella Gambotto-Burke, The Eclipse: A Memoir of Suicide
What an awful thing then, being there in our house together with our daughter gone, trying to be equal to so many sudden — Paul Harding, Enon
The light in that room was a glow; I seem to remember the color green, or perhaps flowers. A pale green sheet covered hi — Antonella Gambotto-Burke, The Eclipse: A Memoir of Suicide
To multiply the years and divide by the desire to live is a kind of false accounting. — Peter Heller, The Dog Stars