There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

Tears are the silent language of grief

Tears are the silent language of grief

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
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O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand,
Have written strange defeatures in my face.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

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.]

Waste not fresh tears over old griefs.

Waste not fresh tears over old griefs.

That grief is light which can take counsel.
[Lat., Levis est dolor qui capere consilium potest.]

That grief is light which can take counsel.
[Lat., Levis est dolor qui capere consilium potest.]

While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement read more

While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.