“Death-counterfeiting sleep.”
Sad feeling
Sad Quotes — page 211 of 475
“O, she misused me past the endurance of a block.”
“To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy.”
“Past and to come, seems best; things present, worse.”
“Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to th' rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their prey do rouse.”
“Things past redress are now with me past care”
“Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow!.”
“When remedies are past, the griefs are ended By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.”
“But there is no such man; for, brother, men Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it, Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air and agony with words.”
“Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind And makes it fearful and degenerate.”
“What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.”
“Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes; then little strength rings out the doleful knell.”
“Grief hath two tongues; and never woman yet Could rule them both without ten women's wit.”
“A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.”
“A heavier task could not have been impos'd, Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable.”
“I 'gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish th' estate o' th' world were now undone.”
“Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marle?”
“Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!”
“I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercise.”
“Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!”