You can do the impossible, because you have been through the unthinkable. — Christina Rasmussen
You can do the impossible, because you have been through the unthinkable. — Christina Rasmussen
You can do the impossible, because you have been through the unthinkable. — Christina Rasmussen
You can do the impossible, because you have been through the unthinkable. — Christina Rasmussen
You can do the impossible, because you have been through the unthinkable. — Christina Rasmussen
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You can do the impossible, because you have been through the unthinkable.

— Christina Rasmussen
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More “Grief” Quotes

I try to remember everything, every thing, but sometimes I forget something. I don’t even know what it is sometimes, but — Adam Berlin
I will bear this grief, I will endure it. I will reach a point where it doesn't kick me down an abyss whenever I turn my — Jim Beaver, Life's That Way
And in it all, the sensation of shaking my fists at the sky, shaking my fists high up to the sky, because that is what w — Aimee Bender, The Color Master: Stories
Rage and grief are savage companions, but despair is the final undoing. — Mia Farrow, What Falls Away: A Memoir
I'll remember you, he thinks, and as the gun carriage, with its coffin and its dented helmet pass him by, he closes his — Anna Hope, Wake
Although it seems shocking to say so, grief is a funny thing. On the one hand, you're numb, yet on the other, something — Alan Bradley, The Dead in Their Vaulted Arches
Man only likes counting his grief, he doesn't count his happiness. But if he were to count properly, he'd see that there — Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground, White Nights, The Dream of a Ridiculous Man, and Selections from The House of the Dead
Eustasia Johannsen was ready. Anyone could see that. Everything about her ancient self gave evidence to it: Her skin, wr — Clare Vanderpool, Navigating Early
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I was ravenous for my child and took to gorging myself in the boneyard, hoping that she might possibly meet me halfway, — Paul Harding, Enon
I pulled a dirty black sweatshirt from the laundry basket on my son’s floor and tried to drink in his scent, to savor th — Shelley Ramsey, Grief: A Mama's Unwanted Journey
Like young fern shootsmy child's fingers curled.I did not expect,in the fifth month, frost. — Lian Hearn, Heaven's Net is Wide