Grief makes one hour ten.

For each person I lost I found a new layer of grief to cover myself with, and each time I tried to bring something of their essence into my own being - be it unconditional love, kindness and piety.

Grief is like the wake behind a boat. It starts out as a huge wave that follows close behind you and is big enough to swamp and drown you if you suddenly stop moving forward.

My son has died of AIDS.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.