Quotations about:
    sorrow


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I don’t know ov a better kure for sorrow than tew pity sum boddy else.

[I don’t know of a better cure for sorrow than to pity somebody else.]

Josh Billings (1818-1885) American humorist, aphorist [pseud. of Henry Wheeler Shaw]
Everybody’s Friend, Or; Josh Billing’s Encyclopedia and Proverbial Philosophy of Wit and Humor, ch. 130 “Affurisms: Puddin & Milk” (1874)
    (Source)

See also this Billings.
 
Added on 14-Mar-24 | Last updated 14-Mar-24
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More quotes by Billings, Josh

Ye Venuses and Cupids mourn,
Ye whom the graces most adorn,
Come, and your tears of sorrow shed:
My Lesbia’s little bird is dead.

[Lugete, o Veneres Cupidinesque
et quantum est hominum venustiorum!
passer mortuus est meae puellae,
passer, deliciae meae puellae.]

gaius valerius catullus
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 3 “Death of the Sparrow,” ll. 1-4 [tr. Bliss (1872)]
    (Source)

(Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:

Mourn all ye Loves! ye Graces mourn!
My Lesbia's fav'rite sparrow's gone!
Ye men for wit, for taste, preferr'd,
Lament my girl's departed bird!
[tr. Nott (1795)]

Mourn, all ye loves and graces; mourn,
Ye wits, ye gallant, and ye gay;
Death from my fair her bird has torn,
Her much-loved Sparrow's snatch'd away.
[tr. Lamb (1821)]

Loves and Graces, mourn with me,
Mourn, fair youths, where'er ye be!
Dead my Lesbia's sparrow is,
Sparrow, that was all her bliss.
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]

Ye Graces! mourn, oh mourn!
Mourn, Cupids Venus-born!
And loveliest sons of earth, where'er ye are !
Dead is now my darling's sparrow --
Sparrow of my "winsome marrow,"
Than her very eyes, oh! dearer to her far.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867)]

Weep each heavenly Venus, all the Cupids,
Weep all men that have any grace about ye.
Dead the sparrow, in whom my love delighted,
The dear sparrow, in whom my love delighted.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]

Weep every Venus, and all Cupids wail,
And men whose gentler spirits still prevail.
Dead is the Sparrow of my girl, the joy,
Sparrow, my sweeting's most delicious toy.
[tr. Burton (1893)]

O mourn, you Loves and Cupids, and all men of gracious mind. Dead is the sparrow of my girl, sparrow, darling of my girl.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]

Mourn, all ye Loves, ye Loves and Cupids, mourn,
Make moan for heaviness, ye gallants bright,
For Lesbia's bird, my Lesbia weeps forlorn;
He's dead -- poor, pretty bird -- my love's delight!
[tr. Harman (1897)]

Mourn, ye Graces and Loves, and all you whom the Graces love. My lady's sparrow is dead, the sparrow my lady's pet.
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]

Mourn, all ye Graces, mourn, ye Sons of Love, and all whose hearts engender pity. The sparrow of my beloved is no more; that sparrow, the delight of my beloved.
[tr. Stuttaford (1912)]

Weep, weep, ye Loves and Cupids all,
And ilka Man o’ decent feelin’:
My lassie’s lost her wee, wee bird,
And that’s a loss, ye’ll ken, past healin’.
[tr. Davies (1912)]

Let Venus bow her head in grief,
And tears drown Cupid's eyes in sorrow,
And men of feeling everywhere
Forget to smile -- until tomorrow.
My lady's little bird lies dead,
The bird that was my lady's prize.
[tr. Stewart (1915)]

Weep, ye gods of love and pleasure,
Weep, all all ye of finer clay,
Weep, my darling's lost her treasure,
Mourn her sparrow passed away!
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923)]

Mourn Loves and Graces all, and you
Of men the lovelier chosen few.
The sparrow of my love is dead,
The playmate of my love is sped.
[tr. MacNaghten (1925)]

Dress now in sorrow, O all
you shades of Venus,
and your little cupids weep.
My girl has lost her darling sparrow.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]

Lament, o graces of Venus, and Cupids,
and cry out loud, men beloved by Her graces.
Pass here, it's dead, meant so much to my girl, the
sparrow, the jewel that delighted my girl.
[tr. Zukofsky (1959)]

Mourn, oh Cupids and Venuses,
and whatever there is of rather pleasing men:
the sparrow of my girlfriend has died,
the sparrow, delight of my girl.
[tr. Sullvan (1997)]

Mourn, O you Loves and Cupids
and such of you as love beauty:
my girl’s sparrow is dead,
sparrow, the girl’s delight.
[tr. Kline (2001)]

Mourn, Cupids all, every Venus,
and whatever company still exists of caring people:
Sparrow lies dead, my own true sweegheart's sparrow.
[tr. Green (2005)]

Mourn, Oh Venuses and Cupids
And all men of finer feeling
The sparrow of my girl has died,
the sparrow, my lady's pet.
[tr. Wikibooks (2017)]

Mourn, O Venuses and Cupids
and however many there are of more charming people:
my girl's sparrow is dead --
the sparrow, delight of my girl.
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]

 
Added on 13-Mar-24 | Last updated 13-Mar-24
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More quotes by Catullus

So up I got in anger,
And took a book I had,
And put a ribbon on my hair
To please a passing lad.
And, “One thing there’s no getting by —
I’ve been a wicked girl.” said I;
“But if I can’t be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!”

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) American poet
“The Penitent”, st. 3, A Few Figs from Thistles (1921)
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Added on 29-Feb-24 | Last updated 29-Feb-24
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More quotes by Millay, Edna St. Vincent

But the power
of a man’s will is often powerless:
laughter and tears follow so close upon
the passions that provoke them that the more
sincere the man, the less they obey his will.
 
[Ma non può tutto la virtù che vuole;
ché riso e pianto son tanto seguaci
a la passion di che ciascun si spicca,
che men seguon voler ne’ più veraci.]

Dante Alighieri the poet
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 2 “Purgatorio,” Canto 21, l. 105ff (21.105-108) (1314) [tr. Musa (1981)]
    (Source)

(Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:

As each alternate Passion leaves a trace
On the still-varying muscles of the face,
Fictitious oft; but, by the candid mind,
Conceal'd with pain, the dawn of dubious joy
My features wore.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 20]

But the power which wills,
Bears not supreme control: laughter and tears
Follow so closely on the passion prompts them,
They wait not for the motions of the will
In natures most sincere.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

But will is not with power entire endued.
Laughter and tears pursue so much the trace
The passion dictates that imprints them there,
Nor follow will in natures most sincere.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

But yet the power that wills cannot do all things;
For tears and laughter are such pursuivants
Unto the passion from which each springs forth,
In the most truthful least the will they follow.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

But virtue cannot all it would; for laughter and tears follow so much the passion from which each springs, that they least obey will in the most truthful men.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

But all it wishes, will cannot forbear:
For smiles and tears to diverse passion wed,
Upon that passion follow so instinct.
In open natures, will is quite outsped.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

But the power that wills cannot do everything; for smiles and tears are such followers on the emotion from which each springs, that in the most truthful they least follow the will.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

But the virtue which wills is not all powerful;
for laughter and tears follow so closely the passion from which each springs, that they least obey the will in the most truthful.
[tr. Okey (1901)]

But the power to will cannot do all, for laughter and tears are so close followers on the passions from which they spring that they least follow the will in the most truthful.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

But all is not done by the will's decree;
For on the passion wherefrom each is bred
Laughter and tears follow so close that least
In the most truthful is the will obeyed.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

But will with us is not made one with power;
Tears, laughter, tread so hard upon the heel
Of their evoking passions, that in those
Who're most sincere they least obey the will.
[tr. Sayers (1955)]

But man's will
is not supreme in every circumstance:
for tears and laughter come so close behind
the passions they arise from, that they least
obey the will of the most honest mind.
[tr. Ciardi (1961)]

But the power that wills cannot do everything; for smiles and tears are such close followers on the emotion from which each springs, that in the most truthful they least follow the will.
[tr. Singleton (1973)]

But virtue cannot do everything that it will;
For laughter and tears follow so closely on
The passions from which they respectively proceed,
That they follow the will least in the most truthful.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

And yet the power of the will cannot do all,
for tears and smiles are both so faithful to
the feelings that have prompted them that true
feeling escapes the will that would subdue.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1982)]

But the power of the will cannot do everything,
for laughter and weeping follow so closely on the passion from which each springs that they follow the will least in those who are most truthful.
[tr. Durling (2003)]

But the virtue that wills is not all-powerful, since laughter and tears follow the passion, from which they spring, so closely, that, in the most truthful, they obey the will least.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

But will power can't do everything it wills.
For tears and laughter follow on so close
to those emotions from which each act springs
that these least follow will in those most true.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2007)]

But the power that wills cannot do all it wills,
for laughter and tears so closely follow feelings
from which they spring, they least can be controlled
in those who are most truthful.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

But will alone won't stop a human being,
Since laughter and tears are deeply interwoven,
Following hard on emotions which spring them forth,
And when they're truthful have little to do with the will.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

 
Added on 19-Jan-24 | Last updated 19-Jan-24
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More quotes by Dante Alighieri

LEAR: When we are born, we cry that we are come
To this great stage of fools.

Shakespeare
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet
King Lear, Act 4, sc. 6, l. 200ff (4.6.200-201) (1606)
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Added on 18-Dec-23 | Last updated 29-Jan-24
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But one cannot weep for the entire world. It is beyond human strength. One must choose.

[On ne peut pleurer pour le monde entier : C’est au-delà des forces humaines. Il faut choisir!]

Jean Anouilh (1910-1987) French dramatist
Cecile; or The School for Fathers [L’Ecole Des Peres] [The Chevalier] (1951) [tr. Klein (1956)]
    (Source)
 
Added on 25-Sep-23 | Last updated 25-Sep-23
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By those, that deepest feel, are ill exprest
The indistinctness of the suffering breast;
Where thousand thoughts begin to end in one,
Which seeks from all the refuge found in none;
No words suffice the secret soul to show.
And Truth denies all eloquence to Woe.

Lord Byron
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Corsair, Canto 3, st. 22, l. 1807ff (1814)
    (Source)
 
Added on 30-Aug-23 | Last updated 30-Aug-23
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They gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in future.

Jane Austen
Jane Austen (1775-1817) English novelist
Sense and Sensibility, ch. 1 (1811)
    (Source)
 
Added on 17-Aug-23 | Last updated 17-Aug-23
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They that love Mirth, let them heartily Drink,
‘Tis the only Receipt to make Sorrow sink.

Ben Jonson (1572-1637) English playwright and poet
“Private Entertainment of the King and Queen,” Highgate, London (1604-05-01)
    (Source)

Receipt and recipe (both from the Latin recipe "you take this!") were originally used in English for medical formulations and prescriptions. "Receipt" was often abbreviated "Rt," which, as a ligature, looks like "℞" or "Rx" -- which is still used as an abbreviation a medical prescription.
 
Added on 21-Jun-23 | Last updated 21-Jun-23
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I have known sorrow — therefore I
May laugh with you, O friend, more merrily
Than those who never sorrowed upon earth
And know not laughter’s worth.

I have known laughter — therefore I
May sorrow with you far more tenderly
Than those who never guess how sad a thing
Seems merriment to one heart’s suffering.

Theodosia Garrison
Theodosia Pickering Garrison (1874-1944) American poet
“Knowledge,” The Century Magazine (1900-08)
    (Source)
 
Added on 9-Jun-23 | Last updated 12-Jun-23
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When I stepped through the door, the sharp odor of gin hit me. Charlie was drowning his sorrows, and they apparently were dying hard.

Marcia Muller
Marcia Muller (b. 1944) American author
Edwin of the Iron Shoes, ch. 7 (1977)
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Added on 2-Jun-23 | Last updated 2-Jun-23
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To drink for pleasure may be a distraction, but to drink from misery is always a danger.

Ellen Glasgow (1874-1945) American author
Vein of Iron, Part 5, ch. 11 (1935)
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Added on 12-May-23 | Last updated 12-May-23
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There is nothing like employment, active indispensable employment, for relieving sorrow. Employment, even melancholy, may dispel melancholy, and her occupations were hopeful.

Jane Austen
Jane Austen (1775-1817) English novelist
Mansfield Park, ch. 46 (1814)
    (Source)
 
Added on 11-May-23 | Last updated 11-May-23
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He’s the one who gives us wine to ease our pain.
If you take wine away, love will die, and
every other source of human joy will follow.

[τὴν παυσίλυπον ἄμπελον δοῦναι βροτοῖς.
οἴνου δὲ μηκέτ᾽ ὄντος οὐκ ἔστιν Κύπρις
οὐδ᾽ ἄλλο τερπνὸν οὐδὲν ἀνθρώποις ἔτι.]

Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 772ff [First Messenger/Ἄγγελος] (405 BC) [tr. Woodruff (1999)]
    (Source)

Speaking of Dionysus. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:

He, the grape, that med'cine for our cares,
Bestow'd on favour'd mortals. Take away
The sparkling Wine, fair Venus smiles no more
And every pleasure quits the human race.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

He gives to mortals the vine that puts an end to grief. Without wine there is no longer Aphrodite or any other pleasant thing for men.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

He hath given the sorrow-soothing vine to man
For where wine is not love will never be,
Nor any other joy of human life.
[tr. Milman (1865)]

He gives the soothing vine
Which stills the sorrow of the human heart;
Where wine is absent, love can never be;
Where wine is absent, other joys are gone.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 732ff]

’Twas he that gave the vine to man, sorrow’s antidote. Take wine away and Cypris flies, and every other human joy is dead.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

He gave men the grief-assuaging vine.
When wine is no more found, then Love is not,
Nor any joy beside is left to men.
[tr. Way (1898)]

This is he who first to man did give
The grief-assuaging vine. Oh, let him live;
For if he die, then Love herself is slain,
And nothing joyous in the world again!
[tr. Murray (1902)]

It was he,
or so they say, who gave to mortal men
the gift of lovely wine by which our suffering
is stopped. And if there is no god of wine,
there is no love, no Aphrodite either,
nor other pleasures left to men.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]

They say that he
has given to men the vine that ends pain.
If wine were no more, then Cypris is no more
nor anything else delighted for mankind.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]

It was he who gave men the gift of the vine as a cure for sorrow. And if there were no more wine, why, there's an end of love, and of every other pleasure in life.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]

Didn't he make us
Mortal men the gift of wine? If that is true
You have much to thank him for -- wine makes
Our labors bearable. Take wine away
And the world is without joy, tolerance, or love.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]

The sorrow-ceasing vine he gives to mortals.
Without wine there is no Aphrodite,
nor longer any other delight for men.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]

It was he,
so they say, who gave to us, poor mortals, the gift of wine,
that numbs all sorrows.
If wine should ever cease to be,
then so will love.
No pleasures left for men.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]

He himself, I hear them say,
Gave the pain-killing vine to men.
When wine is no more, neither is love.
Nor any other pleasure for mankind.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]

He gave to mortals the vine that stops pain.
If there were no more wine, then there is no more Aphrodite
nor any other pleasure for mankind.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]

It's he who gave
To mortals the vine that stops all suffering.
Adn if wine were to exist no longer, then
Neither would the goddess Aphrodite,
Nor anything of pleasure for us mortals.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 885ff]

He gave to mortals the vine that puts an end to pain. If there is no wine, there is no Aphrodite or any other pleasure for mortals.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]

Besides, he's given us the gift of wine,
Without which man desires nor endures not.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]

He’s the god who brought the wine to the mortals. Great stuff that. It stops all sadness. Truth is, my Lord, when the wine is missing so does love and then… well, then there’s nothing sweet left for us mortals.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]

He is the one who gave us the vine that gives
pause from pain; and if there is no wine, there'll be no more
Aphrodite, & there is no other gift to give such pleasure to us mortals.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]

He gives to mortal human beings that vine which puts an end to human grief. Without wine, there's no more Aphrodite -- or any other pleasure left for men.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]

He is great in so many ways -- not least, I hear say,
for his gift of wine to mortal men.
Wine, which puts an end to sorrow and to pain.
And if there is no wine, there is no Aphrodite,
And without her no pleasure left at all.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]

When wine is gone, there is no more Cypris,
nor anything else to delight a mortal heart.
[tr. @sentantiq/Robinson (2015)]

He gave mortals the pain-pausing vine.
When there is no wine, Cypris is absent,
And human beings have no other pleasure.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]

I’ve heard he gave the grapevine to us mortals, as an end to pain.
And without wine, we’ve got no chance with Aphrodite. Or anything else good, for that matter.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]

He even gives to mortals the grape that brings relief from cares. Without wine there is no longer Kypris or any other delightful thing for humans.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]

He gave mortals the pain-relieving vine.
But when there is no more wine, there is no Aphrodite
Nor any other pleasure left for human beings.
[tr. @sentantiq (2021)]

 
Added on 11-Apr-23 | Last updated 11-Jul-23
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More quotes by Euripides

There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.

Lord Byron
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
“Stanzas for Music,” st. 1 (1815-03)
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Added on 30-Mar-23 | Last updated 30-Mar-23
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More quotes by Byron, George Gordon, Lord

And know, reader, that an ounce of mirth, with the same degree of grace, will serve God farther than a pound of sadness.

Thomas Fuller
Thomas Fuller (1608-1661) English churchman, historian
The History of the Worthies of England, “Worthies of Hertfordshire,” “Writers” (1662)
    (Source)

Writing of Jeremiah Dike. By the late 19th Century, Fuller's comment had been paraphrased into something simpler, though still attributed to him:

An ounce of cheerfulness is worth a pound of sadness to serve God with.
[Source 1872, 1895, 1867]

This sentiment is not unique to Fuller. In Richard Baxter's A Treatise of Self-Denial (1659), in "A Dialog of Self-Denial" between Flesh and Spirit, Flesh says:

Why should I think of what will be tomorrow?
An ounce of mirth is worth a pound of sorrow.

The second line here may have been a common English aphorism prior to Fuller and Baxter.
 
Added on 15-Mar-23 | Last updated 15-Mar-23
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More quotes by Fuller, Thomas (1608)

Here lamentation, groans, and wailings deep
Reverberated through the starless air,
So that it made me at the beginning weep.
Uncouth tongues, horrible chatterings of despair,
Shrill and faint cries, words of grief, tones of rage,
And with it all, smiting of hands, were there,
Making a tumult nothing could assuage,
To swirl in the air that knows not day or night,
Like sand within the whirlwind’s eddying cage.

[Quivi sospiri, pianti e alti guai
risonavan per l’aere sanza stelle,
per ch’io al cominciar ne lagrimai.
Diverse lingue, orribili favelle,
parole di dolore, accenti d’ira,
voci alte e fioche, e suon di man con elle
facevano un tumolto, il qual s’aggira
sempre in quell’aura sanza tempo tinta,
come la rena quando turbo spira.]

Dante Alighieri the poet
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet
The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 3, l. 22ff (3.22-30) (1309) [tr. Binyon (1943)]
    (Source)

Not even in Hell itself, but its antechamber, these are the sounds of those eternally rejected by both Heaven and Hell for standing neutral and not committing to either side. (Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:

There Sighs, and Cries, and horrid Howlings mix'd
With Shrieks, re-echo'd through the starless air,
Which frequent tears of pity from me drew.
Variety of tongues, reproaching Taunts,
Words grief expressing, Accents full of ire,
Voices both loud and hoarse, and clapping Hands
Rais'd in that dusky air a tumult wild,
Like to the sand when by a whirlwind toss'd.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 20ff]

Thence, Oh! what wailings from the abject throng
Around the starless sky incessant rung;
The short, shrill shriek, and long resounding groan,
The thick sob, panting thro' the cheerless air,
The lamentagle strain of sad despair,
And blasphemy, with fierce relentless tone.

Volleying around, the full, infernal choir,
Barbarian tongues, and plaints, and words of ire,
(With oft' between the harsh inflicted blow)
In loud discordance from the tribes forlorn
Tumultuous rose, as in a whirlwind borne,
With execrations mix'd, and murmurs low.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 6-7]

Here sighs with lamentations and loud moans
Resounded through the air pierc'd by no star,
That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues,
Horrible languages, outcries of woe,
Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse,
With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds,
Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls
Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd,
Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Sighs there, and moaning sobs, and shriller cries
Rebounded echoing through the starless air.
And early forced the tear-gush from mine eyes:
Tongues of all strain, dread language of despair.
Words born of anguish, accents choked with ire,
And voices loud and hoarse were mingling there
With sound of hands, to swell one uproar dire
That aye went eddying round that timeless gloom.
As the sand eddieth in the whirlwind's gyre.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

Here sighs, plaints, and deep wailings sounded through the starless air: it made me weep at first.
Strange tongues, horrible outcries, words of pain, tones of anger, voices deep and hoarse, and the sounds of hands amongst them,
made a tumult, which turns itself unceasing in that air for ever dyed, as sand when [it eddies in a whirlwind].
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

And then the sighs, complaints, and loud, loud groans
Resounding through the air without a star,
Began to wring my heart with many a tear.
Diverse the tongues and language horrible,
The words of sorrow and accents of ire --
High and weak voices -- sound of smiting there
A tumult made, that seemed t' encompass all
Within that air, which colourless expands
For aye, as when the whirlwinds raise the sands.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

Here sighs and moans and wailings terrible
Resounded through the dim and starless air;
Ev'n at the first my tears might not be stay'd.
Tongues divedrse, foul and horrible discourse,
Utterings of grief and accents of deep rage,
Words loud and hoarse, the sound of raging hands
Fierce tumult made, which sweeps with ceaseless roll
In the deep darkness of that timeless air,
As the sand rushes where the whirlwind blow.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

There sighs, complaints, and ululations loud
Resounded through the air without a star,
Whence I, at the beginning, wept thereat.
Languages diverse, horrible dialects, ⁠
Accents of anger, words of agony,
And voices high and hoarse, with sound of hands,
Made up a tumult that goes whirling on
Forever in that air forever black,
Even as the sand doth, when the whirlwind breathes.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

There sighs, lamentations, and loud wailings were resounding through the starless air; wherefore I at the beginning wept for them. Divers languages, horrible speech, words of woe, accents of rage, voices loud and faint, and sounds of hands with them, made a tumult, which ever in that air eternally tinted circles as the sand when it is blowing up for a whirlwind.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

There sighings, and complaints, and wailings deep,
Resounded ever in the starless air,
so that at first I could not help but weep.
Different tongues, speech horrible to hear,
Accents of anger and the words of pain,
Voices both high and low, hand-clappings there,
Made up a tumult which aye whirls amain
Through the thick air, eternally obscure,
Like sand storm-driven o'er the desert plane.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

Here sighs, laments, and deep wailings were resounding though the starless air; wherefore at first I wept thereat. Strange tongues, horrible cries, words of woe, accents of anger, voices high and hoarse, and sounds of hands with them, were making a tumult which whirls forever in that air dark without change, like the sand when the whirlwind breathes.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Here sighs and lamentations and loud cries resounded through the starless air, wherefore at the first I wept to hear them. Tongues of many nations, utterings of horror, words of tribulation, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and amongst them the sounds of hands, made an uproar that circleth unceasingly in that ever darksome air, even as the sand when the hurricane bloweth.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

Here sighs and lamentations and shrill wailings
Resounded through the air by stars unlighted;
Wherefore I wept thereat, e'en at the outset.
Horrible jargons, tongues of divers peoples,
Accents of anger, words of bitter sorrow,
Shrill and faint voices, sounds of hands among them,
Made a tumultuous uproar, that for ever
Eddies athwart that air's eternal blackness,
As sand when there is blast of coming whirlwind.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, madea tumult which is whirling always through that air forever dark, as sand eddies in a whirlwind.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

Here sighing, and here crying, and loud railing
Smote on the starles air, with lamentation,
So that at first I wept to hear such wailing.
Tongues mixed and mingled, horrible execration,
Shrill shrieks, hoarse groans, fierce yells and hideous blether
And clapping of hands thereto, without cessation
Made tumult through the timeless night, that hither
And thither drives in dizzying circles sped,
As whirlwind whips the spinning sands together.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

Here sighs and cries and wails coiled and recoiled
on the starless air, spilling my soul to tears.
A confusion of tongues and monstrous accents toiled
in pain and anger. Voices hoarse and shrill
and sounds of blows, all intermingled, raised
tumult and pandemonium that still
whirls on the air forever dirty with it
as if a whirlwind sucked at sand.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), ll. 22-29]

Here sighs, laments, and loud wailings were resounding through the starless air, so that at first they made me weep. Strange tongues, horrible outcries, utterances of woe, accents of anger, voices shrill and faint, and the beating of hands among them, were making a tumult that swirls unceasingly in that dark and timeless air, like sand when a whirlwind blows.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

Here sighs and cries and shrieks of lamentation
echoed through the starless air of Hell;
at first these sounds resounding made me weep:
tongues confused, a language strained in anguish
with cadences of anger, shrill outcries
and raucous groans in time to slapping hands,
raising a whirling storm that turns itself
forever through that air of endless black,
like grains of sand swirling when a whirlwind blows.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

Here sighs and lamentations and loud cries
were echoing across the starless air,
so that, as soon as I set out, I wept.
Strange utterances, horrible pronouncements,
accents of anger, words of suffering,
and voices shrill and faint, and beating hands --
all went to make a tumult that will whirl
forever through that turbid, timeless air,
like sand that eddies when a whirlwind swirls.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

Here there were sighings and complaints and howlings,
Resounding in the air under no stars;
So that at first I found myself in tears.
A jumble of languages, deformities of speech,
Words which were pain, with intonations of anger,
Voices which were deep and hoarse, hands clapped together,
Made altogether a tumult, round and round,
Unceasingly in that air in which all was colorless,
Just as it might be in a perpetual sandstorm.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

The sighs, groans, and laments at first were so loud,
Resounding through starless air, I began to weep;
Strange languages, horrible screams, words imbued
With rage or despair, cries as of troubled sleep
Or of a tortured shrillness -- they rose in a coil
Of tumult, along with noises like the slap
Of beating hands, all fused in a ceaseless flail
That churms and frenzies that dark and timeless air
Like sand in a whirlwind.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]

There sighs, weeping, loud wailing resounded through the starless air, for which at the outset I shed tears.
Strange languages, horrible tongues, words of pain, accents of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and sounds of blows with them,
made a tumult that turns forever in that air darkened without time, like the sand when a whirlwind blows.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

Here sighs, complaints, and deep groans, sounded through the starless air, so that it made me weep at first. Many tongues, a terrible crying, words of sadness, accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, with sounds of hands amongst them, making a turbulence that turns forever, in that air, stained, eternally, like sand spiraling in a whirlwind.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Resounding through the starless firmament,
such a commotion of groans and wails of woe,
I wept myself from sheer bewilderment;
outlandish tongues, and accents doloroso,
howls, shrieks, grunts, gasps, bawls,
a never-ending, terrible crescendo,
rising to vast compulsory applause,
revolving like sand or locusts in a storm,
turning the air black as funereal gauze.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Sighing, sobbing, moans and plaintive wailing
all echoed here through air where no star shone,
and I, as this began, began to weep.
Discordant tongues, harsh accents of horror,
tormented words, the twang of rage, strident
voices, the sound, as well, of smacking hands,
together these all stirred a storm that swirled
for ever in the darkened air where no time was
as sand swept up in breathing spires of wind.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

Now sighs, loud wailing, lamentation
resounded through the starless air,
so that I too began to weep.
Unfamiliar tongues, horrendous accents,
words of suffering, cries of rage, voices
loud and faint, the sound of slapping hands --
all these made a tumult, always whirling
in that black and timeless air,
as sand is swirled in a whirlwind.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

To that unknown place, where shrieks and desperate sighs,
Weeping, and fervent moaning filled the starless
Air; I couild not keep myself from crying.
All sorts of tongues, a flood of horrible words,
Much aching speech, with bursts of furious rage,
Some loud, some weak, and hands that flapped like birds,
Blew in a swirling roar, forever created
Anew, whirling around in that timeless air,
Dark as pellets of sand in a hurricane.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

Where sighs and moans and screams of ruined men,
Filling the air beneath the starless sky,
Resounding everywhere, ane everywhere
Was there inside me. I began to cry,
Stunned by the sound of an unseen nightmare.
Inhuman outcries in all human tongues,
Bad language, bursts of anger, yelps of pain,
Shrill scrambled messages from aching lungs,
And clapped hands, self-applause of the insane:
All this was whipped by its own energy
Into a timeless tumult without form --
Dark as a whirlpool in a dead black sea
Or a whirlwind sucking sand into a storm.
[tr. James (2013), l. 28ff]

 
Added on 28-Oct-22 | Last updated 8-Sep-23
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More quotes by Dante Alighieri

Sweet is the remembrance of troubles when you are in safety.

Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ἀνδρομέδα], Frag. 131 (TGF) (412 BC)
    (Source)

(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:

'Tis sweet to recollect past toils in safety.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

Sweet is the memory of toils that are past.
[tr. Reid (1883), in Cicero, De Finibus, 2.105]

Sweet is the memory of sorrows past.
[tr. Rackham (1914), in Cicero, De Finibus, 2.105]

 
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Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

William Blake (1757-1827) English poet, mystic, artist
“On Another’s Sorrow,” st. 1, Songs of Innocence and of Experience (1789)
    (Source)
 
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Everywhere, wrenching grief, everywhere, terror
and a thousand shapes of death.

[Crudelis ubique
Luctus, ubique pavor, et plurima mortis imago.]

Virgil the Poet
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil]
The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 2, l. 368ff (2.368-369) (29-19 BC) [tr. Fagles (2006), ll. 461-462]
    (Source)

On the fighting in the streets of Troy. (Source (Latin)). Alternate translations:

In all parts cruell grief, in all parts feare,
And various shapes of death was every where.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]

All parts resound with tumults, plaints, and fears;
And grisly Death in sundry shapes appears.
[tr. Dryden (1697)]

Every where is cruel sorrow, every where terror and death in thousand shapes.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]

Dire agonies, wild terrors swarm,
And Death glares grim in many a form.
[tr. Conington (1866)]

And everywhere are sounds of bitter grief,
And terror everywhere, and shapes of death.
[tr. Cranch (1872), l. 506-507]

Everywhere is cruel agony, everywhere terror, and the sight of death at every turn.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]

Grim grief on every side,
And fear on every side there is, and many-faced is death.
[tr. Morris (1900)]

All around
Wailings, and wild affright and shapes of death abound.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 49, l. 440-41]

Anguish and woe
were everywhere; pale terrors ranged abroad,
and multitudinous death met every eye.
[tr. Williams (1910)]

Everywhere sorrow,
Everywhere panic, everywhere the image
Of death, made manifold.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]

All over the town you saw
Heart-rending agony, panic, and every shape of death.
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]

And everywhere
are fear, harsh grief, and many shapes of slaughter.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971), l. 497-98]

Grief everywhere,
Everywhere terror, and all shapes of death.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]

Bitter grief was everywhere. Everywhere there was fear, and death in many forms.
[tr. West (1990)]

Cruel mourning is everywhere,
everywhere there is panic, and many a form of death.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Raw fear
Was everywhere, grief was everywhere,
Everywhere the many masks of death.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]

All around were bitter grief and fear, and different scenes of death.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]

 
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More quotes by Virgil

I never will believe that our youngest days are our happiest. What a miserable augury for the progress of the race and the destination of the individual, if the more matured and enlightened state is the less happy one! Childhood is only the beautiful and happy time in contemplation and retrospect: to the child it is full of deep sorrows, the meaning of which is unknown.

George Eliot (1819-1880) English novelist [pseud. of Mary Ann Evans]
Letter to Sara Hennell (May 1844)
    (Source)
 
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The wound hurts less than your desire to wound me.

James Richardson (b. 1950) American poet
“Vectors: 56 Aphorisms and Ten-second Essays,” Michigan Quarterly Review, # 18 (Spring 1999)
    (Source)
 
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To lose a friend, a brother, or a son,
Heaven dooms each mortal, and its will is done:
Awhile they sorrow, then dismiss their care;
Fate gives the wound, and man is born to bear.

[μέλλει μέν πού τις καὶ φίλτερον ἄλλον ὀλέσσαι
ἠὲ κασίγνητον ὁμογάστριον ἠὲ καὶ υἱόν:
ἀλλ᾽ ἤτοι κλαύσας καὶ ὀδυράμενος μεθέηκε:
τλητὸν γὰρ Μοῖραι θυμὸν θέσαν ἀνθρώποισιν.]

Homer (fl. 7th-8th C. BC) Greek author
The Iliad [Ἰλιάς], Book 24, l. 46ff (24.46) [Apollo] (c. 750 BC) [tr. Pope (1715-20)]
    (Source)

Complaining of Achilles excessive grief over Patroclus. Original Greek. Alternate translations:

Other men a greater loss than he
Have undergone, a son, suppose, or brother of one womb;
Yet, after dues of woes and tears, they bury in his tomb
All their deplorings. Fates have giv’n to all that are true men
True manly patience.
[tr. Chapman (1611), l. 50ff]

For whosoever hath a loss sustain’d
Still dearer, whether of his brother born
From the same womb, or even of his son,
When he hath once bewail’d him, weeps no more,
For fate itself gives man a patient mind.
[tr. Cowper (1791), l. 59ff]

For perhaps some one will lose another more dear, either a brother, or a son; yet does he cease weeping and lamenting, for the Destinies have placed in men an enduring mind.
[tr. Buckley (1860)]

A man may lose his best-lov’d friend, a son,
Or his own mother’s son, a brother dear:
He mourns and weeps, but time his grief allays,
For fate to man a patient mind hath giv’n.
[tr. Derby (1864)]

It must be that many a man lose even some dearer one than was this, a brother of the same womb born or perchance a son; yet bringeth he his wailing and lamentation to an end, for an enduring soul have the Fates given unto men.
[tr. Leaf/Lang/Myers (1891)]

A man may lose one far dearer than Achilles has lost -- a son, it may be, or a brother born from his own mother's womb; yet when he has mourned him and wept over him he will let him bide, for it takes much sorrow to kill a man.
[tr. Butler (1898)]

Lo, it may be that a man hath lost one dearer even than was this -- a brother, that the selfsame mother bare, or haply a son; yet verily when he hath wept and wailed for him he maketh an end; for an enduring soul have the Fates given unto men.
[tr. Murray (1924)]

For a man must some day lose one who was even closer than this; a brother from the same womb, or a son. And yet he weeps for him, and sorrows for him, and then it is over, for the Destinies put in mortal men the heart of endurance.
[tr. Lattimore (1951)]

A sane one may endure an even dearer loss: a blood-brother, a son; and yet, by heaven, having grieved and passed through mourning, he will let it go. The Fates have given patient hearts to men.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1974)]

No doubt some mortal has suffered a dearer loss than this,
a brother born in the same womb, or even a son ...
he grieves, he weeps, but then his tears are through.
The Fates have given mortals hearts that can endure.
[tr. Fagles (1990), l. 54ff]

There is no doubt that a man may have lost someone even dearer,
either a brother by one same mother or even his own son,
yet once he has lamented and wept, he ceases to mourn him,
since mankind is endowed by the Fates with a heart of endurance.
[tr. Merrill (2007), l. 46ff]
 
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To care passionately for another human creature brings always more sorrow than joy; but all the same … one would not be without that experience. Anyone who has never really loved has never really lived.

Agatha Christie (1890-1976) English writer
Sad Cypress, ch. 2 (1940)
    (Source)
 
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But if I am to die before my time, I count that a gain. When anyone lives as I do, surrounded by evils, how can he not carry off gain by dying?

[εἰ δὲ τοῦ χρόνου
πρόσθεν θανοῦμαι, κέρδος αὔτ᾽ ἐγὼ λέγω.
ὅστις γὰρ ἐν πολλοῖσιν ὡς ἐγὼ κακοῖς
ζῇ, πῶς ὅδ᾽ Οὐχὶ κατθανὼν κέρδος φέρει]

Sophocles (496-406 BC) Greek tragic playwright
Antigone, l. 460 ff [Antigone] (441 BC) [tr. Jebb (1891)]
    (Source)

Alt. trans.:

But if I am to die before my time, I count that a gain: for when any one lives, as I do, compassed about with evils, can such an one find aught but gain in death?
[tr. Jebb (1917)]

And if my time is shortened, this to me
Is gain indeed. For whoso lives, as I live,
Beset with many sorrows, how does he
Not win by dying?
[tr. Donaldson (1848)]

If death
Is thereby hastened, I shall count it gain
For death is gain to him whose life, like mine,
Is full of misery.
[tr. Storr (1859)]

And now, if I fall
A little sooner, 'tis the thing I wish.
To thou, who live in misery like me,
Believe me, King, 'tis happiness to die.
[tr. Werner (1892)]

But if I die young, all the better:
People who live in misery like mine
Are better dead.
[tr. Woodruff (2001)]

I knew that my death was imminent, of course I did, and even if it came sooner, I would still think it a good thing because when one lives in such a dreadful misery why should he not think death to be a good thing?
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

And if I have to die
before my time, well, I count that a gain.
When someone has to live the way I do,
surrounded by so many evil things,
how can she fail to find a benefit
in death?
[tr. Johnston (2005), l. 521ff]

If I die
before my time, I say it is a gain.
Who lives in sorrows many as are mine
how shall he not be glad to gain his death?
[tr. Wyckoff]

But if
I shall die before my time, I declare it a profit,
for whoever lives beset, as I do, by many things evil,
how does he not gain profit by dying?
[tr. Tyrrell/Bennett]
 
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What a strange machine man is! You fill him with bread, wine, fish, and radishes, and out comes sighs, laughter, and dreams.

Nikos Kazantzakis (1883-1957) Greek writer and philosopher
Zorba the Greek, ch. 23 (1946)
 
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The joy of love is too short, and the sorrow thereof, and what cometh thereof, dureth over long.

No picture available
Thomas Malory (c. 1415-1471) English writer
Le Morte d’Arthur, Book 10, ch. 56 (1485)
    (Source)
 
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There’s enough sorrow in the world, isn’t there, without trying to invent it.

E. M. Forster (1879-1970) English novelist, essayist, critic, librettist [Edward Morgan Forster]
A Room with a View, ch 2 (1908)
    (Source)
 
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Sorrow makes us all children again, destroys all difference of intellect. The wisest knows nothing.

Ralph Waldo Emerson
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) American essayist, lecturer, poet
Journal (1842-01-30)
    (Source)

Two days after he recorded the death of his son.
 
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Sorrow is how we learn to love. Your heart isn’t breaking. It hurts because it’s getting larger. The larger it gets, the more love it holds.

Rita Mae Brown (b. 1944) American author, playwright
Riding Shotgun, ch. 17 (1996)
    (Source)
 
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He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend.
Eternity mourns that. ‘Tis an ill cure
For life’s worst ills, to have no time to feel them.
Where sorrow’s held intrusive and turned out,
There wisdom will not enter, nor true power,
Nor aught that dignifies humanity.

Henry Taylor (1800-1886) English dramatist, poet, bureaucrat, man of letters
Philip Van Artevelde, Part 1, Act 1, sc. 5 (1834)
    (Source)
 
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Don’t agonize, organize.

Florynce "Flo" Kennedy (1916-2000) American lawyer, feminist, civil rights activist
(Attributed)
    (Source)

Quoted in Gloria Steinem, "The Verbal Karate of Florynce R. Kennedy, Esq.," Ms. (Mar 1973).
 
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It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.

Chuck Palahniuk (b. 1962) American novelist and freelance journalist
Diary (2003)
 
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Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.

bronte-proud-people-sad-sorrows-wist_info-quote

Emily Brontë (1818-1848) British novelist, poet [pseud. Ellis Bell]
Wuthering Heights, ch. 7 (1847) [Nelly Dean]
    (Source)
 
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There is not so much Comfort in the having of Children as there is Sorrow in parting with them.

Thomas Fuller (1654-1734) English physician, preacher, aphorist, writer
Gnomologia: Adages and Proverbs, #4932 (1732)
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What happens to all the tears we do not shed?

renard-all-the-tears-we-do-not-shed-wist_info-quote

Jules Renard (1864-1910) French writer
Journal (Nov 1906) [tr. Bogan & Roget (1964)]
 
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Lofty mountains are full of springs; great hearts are full of tears.

Joseph Roux
Joseph Roux (1834-1886) French Catholic priest
Meditations of a Parish Priest, 5.56 [tr. Hapgood (1886)]
 
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We choose our joys and our sorrows long before we experience them.

Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931) Lebanese-American poet, writer, painter [Gibran Khalil Gibran]
Sand and Foam (1926)
 
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To have money is a feare, not to have it a griefe.

George Herbert (1593-1633) Welsh priest, orator, poet.
Jacula Prudentum, or Outlandish Proverbs, Sentences, &c. (compiler), # 591 (1640 ed.)
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Cares are often more difficult to throw off than sorrows; the latter die with time, the former grow upon it.

Jean Paul Richter (1763-1825) German writer, art historian, philosopher, littérateur [Johann Paul Friedrich Richter; pseud. Jean Paul]
(Attributed)
    (Source)

In Ballou, Treasury of Thought (1884).
 
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Sorrow preys upon
Its solitude, and nothing diverts it
From its sad visions of the other world
Than calling it at moments back to this.
The busy have no time for tears.

Lord Byron
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet
The Two Foscari, Act 4, sc. 1 [Loredano] (1821)
    (Source)
 
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LAFEW: Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
excessive grief the enemy to the living.

Shakespeare
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet
All’s Well That Ends Well, Act 1, sc. 1, l. 57ff (1.1.57-58) (1602?)
    (Source)
 
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Grief is itself a med’cine.

William Cowper (1731-1800) English poet
“Charity,” l. 159 (1782)
 
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Even at the movies, we laugh together, we weep alone.

James Richardson (b. 1950) American poet
Vectors: Aphorisms and Ten-Second Essays (2001)
 
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But we live through the fine days without noticing them; only when we fall on evil ones do we wish to have back the former. With sour faces we let a thousand bright and pleasant hours slip by unenjoyed and afterwards vainly sigh for their return when times are trying and depressing. Instead of this, we should cherish every present moment that is bearable, even the most ordinary, which with such indifference we now let slip by, and even with impatience push on.

[Aber wir verleben unsre schönen Tage, ohne sie zu bemerken: erst wann die schlimmen kommen, wünschen wir jene zurück. Tausend heitere, angenehme Stunden lassen wir, mit verdrießlichem Gesicht, ungenossen an uns vorüberziehn, um nachher, zur trüben Zeit, mit vergeblicher Sehnsucht ihnen nachzuseufzen. Statt dessen sollten wir jede erträgliche Gegenwart, auch die alltägliche, welche wir jetzt so gleichgültig vorüberziehn lassen, und wohl gar noch ungeduldig nachschieben.]

Arthur Schopenhauer
Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) German philosopher
Parerga and Paralipomena, Vol. 1, “Aphorisms on the Wisdom of Life [Aphorismen zur Lebensweisheit],” ch. 5 “Counsels and Maxims [Paränesen und Maximen],” § 2.5 (1851) [tr. Payne (1974)]
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(Source (German)). Alternate translation:

But we live through our days of happiness without noticing them; it is only when evil comes upon us that we wish them back. A thousand gay and pleasant hours are wasted in ill-humor; we let them slip by unenjoyed, and sigh for them in vain when the sky is overcast. Those present moments that are bearable, be they never so trite and common, -- passed by in indifference, or, it may be, impatiently pushed away.
[tr. Saunders (1890)]

 
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Sorrow is a kind of rust of the soul, which every new idea contributes in its passage to scour away. It is the putrefaction of stagnant life, and is remedied by exercise and motion.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) English writer, lexicographer, critic
The Rambler, #47 (28 Aug 1750)
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There is no wisdom in useless and hopeless sorrow, but there is something in it so like virtue, that he who is wholly without it cannot be loved.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) English writer, lexicographer, critic
Letter to Hester Thrale (12 Apr 1781)
 
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CLAUDIUS: When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions.

Shakespeare
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) English dramatist and poet
Hamlet, Act 4, sc. 5, l. 84ff (4.5.84-85) (c. 1600)
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Patience is the cure for every sorrow.

Publilius Syrus (d. 42 BC) Assyrian slave, writer, philosopher [less correctly Publius Syrus]
Sententiae [Moral Sayings], # 170 [tr. Lyman (1862)]
 
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Who never ate his bread in sorrow,
Who never spent the darksome hours
Weeping and watching for the morrow,
He knows ye not, ye gloomy Powers.

To earth, this weary earth, ye bring us,
To guilt ye let us heedless go,
Then leave repentance fierce to wring us:
A moment’s guilt, an age of woe!

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) German poet, statesman, scientist
Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship, 2.13 (1796) [tr. Carlyle (1824)]
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Depend upon it if a man talks of his misfortunes there is something in them that is not disagreeable to him; for where there is nothing but pure misery there never is any recourse to the mention of it.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) English writer, lexicographer, critic
Comment (1780)
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In Boswell, The Life of Samuel Johnson, ch. 51 "1780" (1791)
 
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Our anger and annoyance are more detrimental to us than the things themselves which anger or annoy us.

Marcus Aurelius (AD 121-180) Roman emperor (161-180), Stoic philosopher
Meditations, Book 11, #15 [tr. Staniforth (1964)]
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Alternate translations:

How many things may and do oftentimes follow upon such fits of anger and grief; far more grievous in themselves, than those very things which we are so grieved or angry for.
[tr. Casaubon (1634)]

Consider that our anger and impatience often proves much more mischievous than the provocation could possibly have done.
[tr. Collier (1701), #18]

Consider how much more pain is brought on us by the anger and vexation caused by such acts than by the acts themselves, at which we are angry and vexed.
[tr. Long (1862)]

Consider that our anger and impatience often prove much more mischievous than the things about which we are angry or impatient.
[tr. Zimmern (1887)]

How much more grievous are what fits of anger and the consequent sorrows bring than the actual things are which produce in us those angry fits and sorrows.
[tr. Farquharson (1944)]

Anger and the sorrow it produces are far more harmful than the things that make us angry.
[tr. Needleman/Piazza (2008)]

 
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Usually when people are sad, they don’t do anything. They just cry over their condition. But when they get angry, they bring about a change.

Malcolm X (1925-1965) American revolutionary, religious leader [b. Malcolm Little]
Malcolm X Speaks, ch. 9 “With Mrs. Fannie Lou Hamer” (1965)
 
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It is said that our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strength.

Charles Spurgeon (1834-1892) British Baptist preacher, author [Charles Haddon (C.H.) Spurgeon]
The Salt-Cellars (1889)
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I shall change their mourning into gladness, comfort them, give them joy after their troubles.

The Bible (The Old Testament) (14th - 2nd C BC) Judeo-Christian sacred scripture [Tanakh, Hebrew Bible], incl. the Apocrypha (Deuterocanonicals)
Jeremiah 31:13 [NJB (1985)]
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Alternate translations:

For I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them, and make them rejoice from their sorrow.
[KJV (1611)]

I will comfort them and turn their mourning into joy,
their sorrow into gladness.
[GNT (1976)]

I will turn their mourning into joy;
I will comfort them and give them gladness for sorrow.
[NRSV (1989 ed.)]

I will turn their mourning to joy,
I will comfort them and cheer them in their grief.
[RJPS (2023 ed.)]

 
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