Death Of A Friend Quotes

A friend who dies, it's something of you who dies.

There's one thing that keeps surprising you about stormy old friends after they die - their silence.

It hath been often said, that it is not death, but dying, which is terrible.

This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

Even the death of Friends will inspire us as much as their lives. They will leave consolation to the mourners, as the rich leave money to defray the expenses of their funerals, and their memories will be incrusted over with sublime and pleasing thoughts, as monuments of other men are overgrown with moss; for our Friends have no place in the graveyard.

For some moments in life there are no words.

This self now as I leant over the gate looking down over fields rolling in waves of colour beneath me made no answer. He threw up no opposition. He attempted no phrase. His fist did not form. I waited. I listened. Nothing came, nothing. I cried then with a sudden conviction of complete desertion. Now there is nothing. No fin breaks the waste of this immeasurable sea. Life has destroyed me. No echo comes when I speak, no varied words. This is more truly death than the death of friends, than the death of youth.

But fate ordains that dearest friends must part.

Say not 'Good-night' but in some brighter clime, bid me 'Good-morning.'

The comfort of having a friend may be taken away, but not that of having had one.

Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, advanced a stage or two upon that road which you must travel in the steps they trod.

The song is ended, but the melody lingers on.

A human life is a story told by God.

Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

When you are sorrowful, look again.

Tears are God's gift to us. Our holy water. They heal us as they flow.

And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long since and lost awhile.

It is the will of God and Nature that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life; 'tis rather an embrio state, a preparation for living; a man is not completely born until he be dead: Why then should we grieve that a new child is born among the immortals?

He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.

On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend's life also, in our own, to the world.

Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed; I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn.

Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.

The deep pain that is felt at the death of every friendly soul arises from the feeling that there is in every individual something which is inexpressible, peculiar to him alone, and is, therefore, absolutely and irretrievably lost.

If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons.

Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.

The loss of a friend is like that of a limb; time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired.

We go to the grave of a friend saying, "A man is dead," but angels throng about him saying, "A man is born."

He spoke well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.

There is a strange charm in the thoughts of a good legacy, or the hopes of an estate, which wondrously removes or at least alleviates the sorrow that men would otherwise feel for the death of friends.

Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.

When our friends are alive, we see the good qualities they lack; dead, we remember only those they possessed.

After the second chapter of Days of Obligation, which is about the death of a friend of mine from AIDS, was published in Harper's, I got this rather angry letter from a gay-and-lesbian group that was organizing a protest against the magazine. It was the same old problem: political groups have almost no sense of irony.

Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.

Death ends a life, not a relationship.

CALLOUS, adj. Gifted with great fortitude to bear the evils afflicting another. When Zeno was told that one of his enemies was no more he was observed to be deeply moved. "What!" said one of his disciples, "you weep at the death of an enemy?" "Ah, 'tis true," replied the great Stoic; "but you should see me smile at the death of a friend.".

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.

If you're going through hell, keep going.

With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day, Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!

And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand.

Can miles truly separate you from friends... If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?

The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing...that is a friend who cares.

Friends share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand.

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.