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Your joys and sorrows. You can never tell them. You cheapen the inside of yourself if you do tell them.
Time takes away the grief of men.
God is in the sadness and the laughter, in the bitter and the sweet.
Nobody understands another’s sorrow, and nobody another’s joy.
Sad will be the day for any man when he becomes contented with the thoughts he is thinking and the deeds he is doing – where there is not forever beating at the doors of his soul some great desire to do something larger which he knows he was meant and made to do.
You get used to sadness, growing up in the mountains, I guess.
We look before and after, And pine for what is not Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, ‘It might have been’.
It is sadder to find the past again and find it inadequate to the present than it is to have it elude you and remain forever a harmonious conception of memory.
Do not make best friends with a melancholy sad soul. They always are heavily loaded, and you must bear half.