A Quote by Seneca the Younger

Unfamiliarity lends weight to misfortune, and there was never a man whose grief was not heightened by surprise. — © Seneca the Younger
Unfamiliarity lends weight to misfortune, and there was never a man whose grief was not heightened by surprise.
There's a moment when love makes you believe in death for the first time. You recognize the one whose loss, even contemplated, you'll carry forever, like a sleeping child. All grief, anyone's grief...is the weight of a sleeping child.
I've gained a seriousness that has to do with a certain perspective, a gratitude for being able to see the importance of things. And that lends itself a gravity to everything. And that is something that I sort of carry as a weight but a good weight inside of me.
My hope is to gain a fresh hearing for Jesus, especially among those who believe they already understand him. In his case, quite frankly, presumed familiarity has led to unfamiliarity, unfamiliarity has led to contempt, and contempt has led to profound ignorance.
The misfortune of the man of color is having been enslaved. The misfortune and inhumanity of the white man are having killed man somewhere.
I've never had a surprise birthday party. I've had every other type of surprise. I've had surprise beatings, surprise drug tests, surprise daughter I think.
'Hamlet' is a play about a man whose grief is deemed unseemly.
A man is the sum of his misfortunes. One day you'd think misfortune would get tired but then time is your misfortune
Now see what a Christian is, drawn by the hand of Christ. He is a man on whose clear and open brow God has set the stamp of truth; one whose very eye beams bright with honor; in whose very look and bearing you may see freedom, manliness, veracity; a brave man--a noble man--frank, generous, true, with, it may be, many faults; whose freedom may take the form of impetuosity or rashness, but the form of meanness never.
Whose lenient sorrows find relief, whose joys are chastened by their grief.
That heightened dynamic can produce interesting, funny ideas that are phrased in ways that surprise even you, as the performer.
The plea of good intentions is not one that can be allowed to have much weight in passing historical judgment upon a man whose wrong-headedness and distorted way of looking at things produced, or helped to produce, such incalculable evil; there is a wide political applicability in the remark attributed to a famous Texan, to the effect that he might, in the end, pardon a man who shot him on purpose, but that he would surely never forgive one who did so accidentally.
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself.
For me, a page of good prose is where one hears the rain and the noise of battle. It has the power to give grief or universality that lends it a youthful beauty.
Life, sometimes so wearying is worth its weight in gold the experience of traveling lends a wisdom that is old.
Death is dreadful to the man whose all is extinguished with his life; but not to him whose glory never can die.
Grief doesn't fade. Grief scabs over like my scars and pulls into new, painful configurations as it knits. It hurts in new ways. We are never free from grief.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!