I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

- J.R.R. Tolkien
J.R.R. Tolkien Grief

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien
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I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

J.R.R. Tolkien

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More quotes by J.R.R. Tolkien

The world is full enough of hurts and mischance without wars to multiply them.
J.R.R. Tolkien
I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
J.R.R. Tolkien
It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.
J.R.R. Tolkien

More Grief quotes

Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow; I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain; I am the gentle autumn's rain.
Mary Elizabeth Frye
The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not 'get over' the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
Grief fills the room up of my absent child, lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, remembers me of all his gracious parts, stufs out his vacant garments with his form
William Shakespeare

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