A Quote by Robert Greene

Waste brings woe, and sorrow hates despair. — © Robert Greene
Waste brings woe, and sorrow hates despair.
Care draws on care, woe comforts woe again, Sorrow breeds sorrow, on grief brings forth twain.
Despair is despair, sorrow is sorrow, death is death. It's not about who is experiencing it; it's about building a bridge of empathy across these experiences.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
I suppose I'm interested in sorrow, which is very different from depression or despair. Sorrow is continuous with the world; it allows for creativity.
To the old, sorrow is sorrow; to the young, it is despair.
We've got a Muslim for a president who hates cowboys, hates cowgirls, hates fishing, hates farming, loves gays and we hate him!
Can I see another's woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow's share? Can a father see his child Weep, nor be with sorrow filled? Can a mother sit and hear An infant groan, an infant fear? No, no! never can it be! Never, never can it be!
Woe to him whom this world charms from Gospel duty. Woe to him who seeks to pour oil upon the waters when God has brewed them into a gale. Woe to him who seeks to please rather than to appal. Woe to him whose good name is more to him than goodness. Woe to him who, in this world, courts not dishonor! Woe to him who would not be true, even though to be false were salvation. Yea, woe to him who, as the great Pilot Paul has it, while preaching to others is himself a castaway.
There is an important difference between the sorrow for sin that leads to repentance and the sorrow that leads to despair.
Song in the Manner of Housman" O woe, woe, People are born and die, We also shall be dead pretty soon Therefore let us act as if we were dead already. The bird sits on the hawthorn tree But he dies also, presently. Some lads get hung, and some get shot. Woeful is this human lot. Woe! woe, etcetera.... London is a woeful place, Shropshire is much pleasanter. Then let us smile a little space Upon fond nature's morbid grace. Oh, Woe, woe, woe, etcetera.
When we are ready, [Jesus Christ's] pure love instantly moves across time and space, reaches down, and pulls us up from the depths of any tumultuous sea of darkness, sin, sorrow, death, or despair we may find ourselves in and brings us into the light and life and love of eternity.
Maybe the bride-bed brings despair, For each an imagined image brings And finds a real image there...
Where Christ brings His cross He brings His presence; and where He is none are desolate, and there is no room for despair.
Are Americans afraid to face the reality that there is a significant portion of this world's population that hates America, hates what freedom represents, hates the fact that we fight for freedom worldwide, hates our prosperity, hates our way of life? Have we been unwilling to face that very difficult reality?
Woe, woe, woe... in a little while we shall all be dead. Therefore let us behave as though we were dead already.
Woe, woe, woe... in a little while we shall all be dead. Therefore let us behave as though we were dead already.
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