For there is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and to have recovered hope.
For there is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and to have recovered hope.
There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope.
These bitter sorrows of childhood when sorrow is all new and strange, when hope has not yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks, and the space from summer to summer seems measureless.
Childhood has no forebodings but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow.
. . . there was no gleam, no shadow, for the heavens, too, were one still, pale cloud no sound or motion in anything but the dark river that flowed and moaned like an unresting sorrow.
Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.
Doubtless a great anguish may do the work of years, and we may come out from that baptism of fire with a soul full of new awe and new pity.
There is much pain that is quite noiseless and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories