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— Virginia C. Andrews"Patience. I colored patience gray, hung over with black clouds. I colored hope yellow, just like the sun we could see for a few short morning hours. Too soon the sun rose high in the sky & disappeared from view, leaving us bereft and staring at blue."
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Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.
— William Shakespeare
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The lower you are, the higher your mind will want to soar. It was natural that, bereft and desperate as I was, in the throes of unremitting suffering. I should turn to God
— Yann Martel
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