Quotes About Healing

When you leave, you can leave a lot behind. Simple as that. And when you return the bad stuff has all disappeared in your absence because you were keeping it alive.

I began walking at your age just because the natural world seemed to absorb the poison in me.

His wife held him and they sat there an hour vomiting up their souls, saying everything that was possible to say about their multiple faults that had kept them apart. Finally they made love to the obnoxious music of mosquitoes on the wooden floor of the porch.

There is the question of whether life is long enough to get over anything.

It is safer to be part of a twelve-step group than a church.

cleanly as the plow wounded it, and the scorching sun burned a healing scab over the wound. Keeping intent eyes on both mules and waiting for the fly to bite, Joe was not one man but two. One of them felt a soul-filling

Something had snapped between us, and I had no idea how to glue it back together.

For myself and for our Nation, I want to thank my predecessor for all he has done to heal our land.

Qualquer amor já é um pouquinho de saúde, um descanso na loucura.

Any love is already a little bit of health, a rest in the madness.

Above all, she is the girl who 'feels' things, who has hung on to the freshness and pain of adolescence, the girl ever wounded, ever young. Now, at an age when the wounds begin to heal whether one wants them to or not, Joan Baez rarely leaves the Carmel Valley.

Mourning has its place but also its limits.

Until now I had been able only to grieve, not mourn. Grief was passive. Grief happened. Mourning, the act of dealing with grief, required attention.

There is no real way to deal with everything we lose.

Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it.

Medicine, I have reason since to notice more than once, remains an imperfect art.

Until now I had been able only to grieve, not mourn. Grief was passive. Grief happened.

Because the reality of death has not yet penetrated awareness, survivors can appear to be quite accepting of the loss.

I will not forget the instinctive wisdom of the friend who, every day for those first few weeks, brought me a quart container of scallion-and-ginger congee from Chinatown. Congee I could eat. Congee was all I could eat.

Memories are what you no longer want to remember.

Grief has no distance. Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life.

The death of a parent, he wrote, "despite our preparation, indeed, despite our age, dislodges things deep in us, sets off reactions that surprise us and that may cut free memories and feelings that we had thought gone to ground long ago.

Grief, when it comes, is nothing we expect it to be.

They lost concentration. After a year I could read headlines, I was told by a friend whose husband had died three years before