Anguish Quotes - page 8
His gifted voice could exfoliate the contrasting emotions of anguish and ecstasy with equal felicity; his impassioned rendition of both the major melodies like a Thodi or Kalyan in their multifarious variations and their minor counterparts like Bhoop or Abhogi with equal aplomb. In either case, one could only marvel at his unfailing deep, powerful and penetrating vocalism. Equally emphatic was the way he could throw away the values and sanctity of sweetness to unleash a flurry of rollicking bol-taans, an exquisite feat which was not easily fathomable by any other artiste in living memory.
Bhimsen Joshi
When streams of unkindness, as bitter as gall,
Bubble up from the heart to the tongue,
And Meekness is writhing in torment and thrall,
By the hands of Ingratitude wrung, -
In the heat of injustice, unwept and unfair,
While the anguish is festering yet,
None, none but an angel or God can declare
"I now can forgive and forget."
Martin Farquhar Tupper
I really believe if, instead of shutting ourselves into our sorrows and keeping all the light of heaven out of our souls, we opened them to receive Him, Christ would so come to us that the season of our deepest grief and anguish would become one of the richest and most precious of our whole lives.
Arthur Kenney
His cheek was pale as marble, and as cold;
But his lip trembled not, and his dark eyes
Glanced proudly round. But when they bared his breast
For the death-shot, and took a portrait thence,
He clenched his hands, and gasped, and one deep sob
Of agony burst from him; and he hid
His face awhile-his mother's look was there.
He could not steel his soul when he recalled
The bitterness of her despair. It passed-
That moment of wild anguish; he knelt down;
That sunbeam shed its glory over one,
Young, proud, and brave, nerved in deep energy;
The next fell over cold and bloody clay....
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Though we are many, each of us is achingly alone, piercingly alone.
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him.
He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.
Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.
Maya Angelou
