Maya Angelou quotes about grief

Let me leave first, baby. I hate to see the back of someone I love.

There is a silent scream, which tears through the veins, separating the muscles, pinching the nerves, yet the body seems to remain immobile.

I came from a race used to violence and habituated to loss.

I didn't know then that all wives of freedom fighters lived their lives on the edge of screaming desperation.

I keep on dying again.

I was your sister.

Alone. I remember now.

I answer the heroic question, “Death, where is thy sting?” with “It is here in my heart, and my mind, and my memories.”

I remind myself it is sufficient to know what I know, and that what I know, may not always be true.

I answer the heroic question, “Death, where is thy sting?” with “It is here in my heart and mind and memories.”

The act of rape on an eight-year-old body is a matter of the needle giving because the camel can't. The child gives, because the body can, and the mind of the violator cannot.

And my seven-year-old world humpty-dumptied, never to be put back together again.