“Learning about all those different things psychologically - about grief and my own addictions and problems and stuff like that, and really getting an education on it, I think it was part of the process of it, learning about it and trying to lick it.” ThinkingTryingDifferentProblemStuffProcessMy OwnGriefAddictionDifferent Things Author:Richie Sambora
“I decided to write 'True Refuge' during a major dive in my own health. Diagnosed with a genetic disease that affected my mobility, I faced tremendous fear and grief about losing the fitness and physical freedom I loved.” WritingMy OwnGriefDiseaseMajorsLosingDecidedAffectedRefugeMobility Author:Tara Brach
“So often I wonder whether it is my right to capitalize, as I feel, so often, on the grief of others. But then I justify, in my own particular thoughts, by feeling that I can contribute a little to the understanding of what others are going through; then there is reason for doing it.” FeelsLittlesI CanReasonFeelingsUnderstandingMy OwnGriefWonderParticularJustify Book:Mark Z. Danielewski's House of leaves Source: Mark Z. Danielewski's House of leaves
“It was among farmers and potato diggers and old men in workhouses and beggars at my own door that I found what was beyond these and yet farther beyond that drawingroom poet of my childhood in the expression of love, and grief, and the pain of parting, that are the disclosure of the individual soul.” MenSoulPainFoundIndividualMy OwnGriefDoorsChildhoodPoetExpressionOld ManFarmersPotatoesPartingBeggarDisclosureExpressions Of LoveWorkhouses Book:The Kiltartan Poetry Book Source: The Kiltartan Poetry Book
“Parents and children were put on earth to give each other grief. You were my punishment for how I behaved to my own father. And I'll have my revenge when you have children of your own.” GivingChildrenEarthFatherParentMy OwnGriefGenerationsRevengePunishmentChildren And Parents Book:The Wild Child Source: The Wild Child
“It's unsettling, to lose the safety of the familiar, even when what's disrupted is an ordinary routine. When I began this poem, I was grieving for the loss of my old barbershop in Manhattan, and wondering at the strangeness of my new one. I didn't have any idea the poem would break into the underworld, opening a deeper subject: the continuing force of the old griefs routine helps to mediate, and my strange, sheer wonder at my own survival. Where's home now? In the contingent present, in which anything can disappear, and where we're sometimes granted some form of grace.” IdeasSometimesHelpingHomeFormForceLosesMy OwnLossGriefWonderBreakGraceSubjectsStrangeSurvivalOrdinarySafetyDeeperDisappearFamiliarOpeningGrantedGrievingRoutineContinuingSheerManhattanStrangenessUnderworldBarbershop Author:Mark Doty
“I can no more reread my own books than I can watch old home movies or look at snapshots of myself as a child. I wind up sitting on the floor, paralyzed by grief and nostalgia.” LooksChildrenI CanBookHomeMy OwnGriefWatchesWindSittingNostalgiaParalyzedSnapshots Author:Francine Prose