Mercedes Lackey Quotes

I think that people always say when people pass away that time heals all wounds. And that's probably the biggest lie. It's not true. I think we all need to remember that it is always still tough, and it's like losing a piece of your heart.

Everybody faces pain. Everybody has trauma.

I think that time heals all.

only grieving can heal grief; the passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it.

I think it [my first heartbreak] probably just taught me that you will always heal. That this too shall pass. The first time you feel that sort of pain, you think it's never going to go away. Once you do survive it, you realize you can survive anything.

When you lose a lover it's like getting a bad haircut. It grows back in time.

It takes an extraordinary toll on me to re-live my experiences, the horrors of my past and the pain I had to endure. And yet, I believe remembering is the only way to promote healing, to promote awareness and accountability.

The tears I have cried over Germany have dried. I have washed my face.

Everybody has losses - it's unavoidable in life. Sharing our pain is very healing.

I don't know whether you ever get over things that cause you pain.

They always say, 'Time heals.' But it really doesn't. You just get used to it. I live life with the mentality of 'OK, I lost the only thing that has ever been important to me.' So going forward, anything bad that happens can't be nearly as bad as what happened before.

Every one of us have been disappointed before and have had to go through the grieving process of anger and, you know, disappointment and then acceptance and forgiveness.

We're all painfully aware of how suddenly violence can occur, how crippling it is, and how survivors have to find a way back from that.

Bones heal, but the loss of my friend will never heal.

There are certain people in my life who didn't care to be in my book. And so I cut them out. And I had broken up with somebody. And I was, you know, really upset and depressed. And so that was, you know, reasons to keep going.

There's a lot of wounded people out there who don't believe that there's any way they'll ever be healed from those wounds.

You need to face the pain and the fear and walk through the Grief.

The worst of it is over now, and I can't say that I am glad. Lose that sense of loss—you have gone and lost something else. But the body moves toward health. The mind, too, in steps. One step at a time. Ask a mother who has just lost a child, How many children do you have? "Four," she will say, "—three," and years later, "Three," she will say, "—four.

A decade of cutting away dead flesh, cauterizing old scars ripped open over and over and still it is not enough.

Guilt can interfere with our desires to move forward, to heal properly and to become a person who has the mental health and means of proper recompense.

Don't mind all those people who say that you should be back to normal in a month or two. Grieving is all part of helping yourself anyway.

There's a fine edge to new grief, it severs nerves, disconnects reality--there's mercy in a sharp blade. Only with time, as the edge wears, does the real ache begin.

When you can't remember why you're hurt, that's when you're healed. When you have to work real hard to re-create the pain, and you can't quite get there, that's when you're better.

Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope

It's possible to go on, no matter how impossible it seems, and that in time, the grief . . . lessens. It may not go away completely, but after a while it's not so overwhelming.