A Quote by Oscar Wilde

Outcasts always mourn. — © Oscar Wilde
Outcasts always mourn.

Quote Topics

And alien tears will fill for him pity's long broken urn. For his mourners will all be outcast men, and outcasts always mourn.
It is one thing to mourn for sin because it exposes us to hell, and another to mourn for it because it is an infinite evil. It is one thing to mourn for it because it is injurious to ourselves; another, to mourn for it because it is offensive to God. It is one thing to be terrified; another, to be humbled.
To mourn was distressing, but to endeavor to mourn and fail was worse than distress.
But I guess that's the way it is. When you lose something irreplaceable, you don't mourn for the thing you lost. you mourn for yourself.
But to mourn, that's different. To mourn is to be eaten alive with homesickness for the person.
We all mourn in our own way. I mourn with a great steak.
We always knew how to honor fallen soldiers. They were killed for our sake, they went out on our mission. But how are we to mourn a random man killed in a terrorist attack while sitting in a cafe? How do you mourn a housewife who got on a bus and never returned?
For us, the death of Osama bin Laden is a time of profound reflection. With his death, we remember and mourn all the lives lost on September 11. We remember and mourn all the lives lost in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan. We remember and mourn the death of our soldiers.
They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness.
That's why it's hard, I think, to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. I love that line from the Bible, but it's so incredibly difficult sometimes, because when you've got reason to rejoice, you forget what it's like to mourn, even if you swear you never will. And because when you're mourning, the fact that someone close to you is rejoicing seems like a personal affront.
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd / And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, / I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Joys as winged dreams fly fast, / Why should sadness longer last? / Grief is but a wound to woe; / Gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no moe.
Mourn not the dead that in the cool earth lie... But rather mourn the apathetic throng - The cowed and the meek - Who see the world's great anguish and its wrong And dare not speak!
I'm always connecting with what society would label the outcasts and the weirdos and the lost souls.
You mourn, for it is proper to mourn. But your grief serves you; you do not become a slave to grief. You bid the dead farewell, and you continue.
I don't mourn the dead. I mourn the living.
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