I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful read more

I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death

He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it

He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it

If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
Thou robb'st me of a moiety.

If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
Thou robb'st me of a moiety.

Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is
forced to multiply its strength.
[Lat., Strangulat inclusus read more

Suppressed grief suffocates, it rages within the breast, and is
forced to multiply its strength.
[Lat., Strangulat inclusus dolor, atque exaestuat intus,
Cogitur et vires multiplicare suas.]

Oh Martin Sometimes your voice was the thunder..Sometimes it was the falling rain. Always it burst our hearts asunder
and read more

Oh Martin Sometimes your voice was the thunder..Sometimes it was the falling rain. Always it burst our hearts asunder
and made them vibrate.. empathic in pain.

There is no grief which time does not lessen and soften.
[Lat., Nullus dolor est quem non longinquitas temporis read more

There is no grief which time does not lessen and soften.
[Lat., Nullus dolor est quem non longinquitas temporis minuat ac
molliat.]

O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood,
The read more

O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood,
The holy name of Grief--holy herein,
That, by the grief of One, came all our good.

There is a solemn luxury in grief.

There is a solemn luxury in grief.

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
read more

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
[It., Se a ciascun l'interno affanno
Si leggesse in fronte scritto,
Quanti mai, che invidia fanno,
Ci farebbero pieta!]