It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness.

Were floods of tears to be unloosed In tribute to my grief, The doves of Noah ne'er had roost Nor found an olive-leaf.

There is no grief which time does not lessen and soften. [Lat., Nullus dolor est quem non longinquitas temporis minuat ac molliat.]

It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness.

On grief. We know where we've been. We know where we want to be.

Grief, we know where we've been. We know where we want to be.