The perpetual mourner -- the grief that can never be healed -- is innocently enough felt to be wearisome by the rest of the world. And my sense of desolation increases. Each day seems a new beginning -- a new acquaintance with grief.
The perpetual mourner -- the ...
Quotes from the same author
Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?
It is never too late to be what you might have been.
Men and women are but children of a larger growth.
Life began with waking up and loving my mother's face.
