Quotessence
Home / Quotes / G Quotes

G Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with G. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All G Quotes

“Grief doesn't answer to the rules of good sense, she doesn’t answer to any rules at all. Grief is a willful mother fucker who takes what she wants and spits us out where she will. She will not be rushed. Refuses to be contained. The body of you can sustain blow after blow after blow and remain standing, and then the smallest of breezes will bring the whole thing down. It took me a long time to make peace with this. To make friends with the raw, keening animal edge of it all. To understand that we all carry our grief differently, that it stacks and morphs and twists and hides—and then when it is ready, it rushes in, eager to finally have its say.”

“Grief gives you a hundred reasons to cry, hope gives you a thousand reasons to smile, joy gives you a million reasons to laugh, and love gives you a billion reasons to rejoice. Doubt gives you a hundred reasons to cry, expectation gives you a thousand reasons to smile, purpose gives you a million reasons to laugh, and determination gives you a billion reasons to rejoice. Guilt gives you a hundred reasons to cry, forgiveness gives you a thousand reasons to smile, innocence gives you a million reasons to laugh, and character gives you a billion reasons to rejoice. Illness gives you a hundred reasons to cry, health gives you a thousand reasons to smile, vitality gives you a million reasons to laugh, and wellness gives you a billion reasons to rejoice. Death gives you a hundred reasons to cry, birth gives you a thousand reasons to smile, life gives you a million reasons to laugh, and immortality gives you a billion reasons to rejoice.”

“Grief gives you a hundred reasons to cry; hope gives you a thousand reasons to smile, joy gives you a million reasons to laugh, and love gives you billion reasons to rejoice.”

“Grief has a lasting, and often transformational, impact. It pervades every pore in your body and settles in your soul. You may surely find Happiness over time. But it will be a very different experience being happy again after you have experienced what grief is. What grief does is that it makes you understand contentment as the truest form of Happiness. And that’s what Happiness really is – it lies in living each moment fully, gratefully, with what you have, with what is.”

“Grief has a way of sneaking into our lives uninvited, filling spaces we didn’t even know existed. But what happens when it arrives early, settling in before the loss itself even unfolds? In such situations, this refers to ANTICIPATORY GRIEF. Does grieving early lessen the sting when the final loss occurs? Or if it’s merely a futile attempt to prepare our hearts for something it can never truly be ready for. The begs the question, does anticipatory grief help us cope, or does it only deepen the wound?”

“Grief, I’d come to realize, was like dust. When you’re in the thick of a dust storm, you’re completely disoriented by the onslaught, struggling to see or breathe. But as the force recedes, and you slowly find your bearings and see a path forward, the dust begins to settle into the crevices. And it will never disappear completely— as the years pass, you’ll find it in unexpected places at unexpected moments. Grief is just love looking for a place to settle.”

“Grief, I learned, doesn’t care how hard you attempt to understand her. She doesn’t care if you are already depressed or suffer from suicidal ideation. She doesn’t wait for you to be ready, and the longer you defer her presence, the heavier her weight becomes.”

“Grief is a cruel kind of education. You learn how ungentle mourning can be, how full of anger. You learn how glib condolences can feel. You learn how much grief is about language, the failure of language and the grasping for language. Why are my sides so sore and achy? It’s from crying, I’m told. I did not know that we cry with our muscles. The pain is not surprising, but itsphysicality is: my tongue unbearably bitter, as though I ate a loathed meal and forgot to clean my teeth; on my chest, a heavy, awful weight; and inside my body, a sensation of eternal dissolving. My heart - my actual physical heart, nothing figurative here - is running away from me, has become its own separate thing, beating too fast, its rhytms at odds with mine. This is an affliction not merely of the spirit but of the body, of aches and lagging strength. Flesh, muscles, organs are all compromised. No physical position is comfortable. For weeks, my stomach is in turmoil, tense and tight with foreboding, the ever-present certainty that somebody else will die, that more will be lost. One morning, Okey calls me a little earlier than usual and I think, Just tell me, tell me immediately, who has died now. Is it Mummy?”