I will always wear this scar. It's called love. — Wylie R. Weeks
I will always wear this scar. It's called love. — Wylie R. Weeks
I will always wear this scar. It's called love. — Wylie R. Weeks
I will always wear this scar. It's called love. — Wylie R. Weeks
I will always wear this scar. It's called love. — Wylie R. Weeks
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I will always wear this scar. It's called love.

— Wylie R. Weeks
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grief grief and loss grief and loss quotes grief inspirational bereavement grief support

More “Grief” Quotes

We will not open healed wounds!""My wounds are not healed!" I stated just as firmly. "They will never be healed until ju — V.C. Andrews
To be happy to be sad and sad to be happy is to sing an echo in that beautiful language called Sorrow. — Criss Jami, Healology
For human nature is such that grief and pain - even simultaneously suffered - do not add up as a whole in our consciousn — Primo Levi
Eyyia?" said her husband, and Eliane bet Danel heard the mangling of her name as music."You sound like a marsh frog," sh — Guy Gavriel Kay, The Lions of Al-Rassan
But this time as soon as he moved she began to fade. He stopped at once, not breathing again, motionless, willing his ey — William Faulkner, Go Down, Moses
How odd that we spend so much time treating the darkness, and so little time seeking the light. The ego loves to glorify — Marianne Williamson, Tears to Triumph: The Spiritual Journey from Suffering to Enlightenment
Every wonderful quality "in" someone is waiting to be recognized in all of life's great symphony. — Donna Goddard
You’ve got to reach bedrock to become depressed enough before you are forced to accept the reality and enormity of the p — Jonathan Harnisch, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography
Sometimes, we expect life to work a certain way and when it doesn’t we blame others or see it as a sign, rather than fac — Shannon L. Alder
I play until my fingers are blue and stiff from the cold, and then I keep on playing. Until I'm lost in the music. Until — Jennifer Donnelly, Revolution
A memory of her father flitted through her consciousness. The time he played a slow, melodic tune on the saxophone in th — Sage Steadman, Ann, Not Annie
A demigod who reaches his apotheosis never mourns for himself.It is the business of his many adulators to mourn for him. — Michelle Franklin