A Quote by Mary Ann Shaffer

Light griefs are loquacious, but the great are dumb. — © Mary Ann Shaffer
Light griefs are loquacious, but the great are dumb.
Light griefs are plaintive , but great ones are dumb
Striving to tell his woes, words would not come; For light cares speak, when mighty griefs are dumb.
He who seldom speaks, and with one calm well-timed word can strike dumb the loquacious, is a genius or a hero.
Light cares cry out; the great ones still are dumb.
I certainly have a lot to lament, as do we all, everybody has their griefs. But the griefs we can fix, shouldn't we go around fixing them?
Light griefs do speak, while sorrow's tongue is bound.
When a mean wretch cannot vie with another in virtue, out of his wickedness he begins to slander. The abject envious wretch will slander the virtuous man when absent, but when brought face to face his loquacious tongue becomes dumb.
There are some griefs so loud/They could bring down the sky/And there are griefs so still/None knows how deep they lie.
The truth is, we pamper little griefs into great ones, and bear great ones as well as we can.
Great sorrows have no leisure to complain: Least ills vent forth, great griefs within remain.
Griefs upon griefs! Disappointments upon disappointments. What then? This is a gay, merry world notwithstanding.
Democrats are dumb and Republicans are stupid, but the difference between dumb and stupid is dumb isn't funny. Dumb is when you say something and the whole room goes, 'What did he say?'
Great griefs medicine the less.
In my craft or sullen art Exercised in the still night When only the moon rages And the lovers lie abed With all their griefs in their arms, I labour by singing light Not for ambition or bread Or the strut and trade of charms On the ivory stages But for the common wages Of their most secret heart. Not for the proud man apart From the raging moon I write On these spindrift pages Nor for the towering dead With their nightingales and psalms But for the lovers, their arms Round the griefs of the ages, Who pay no praise or wages Nor heed my craft or art.
Great joys, like griefs, are silent.
They see a blooper here and there, and they just think, 'Oh, he's dumb.' I mean, what can I do? I can't 'at' everyone on Twitter and tell them I'm not dumb. Because that looks dumb.
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