“Don't make it sound like that. Like some ordinary sort of grief. It's not like that. They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite. Over. This is a fresh wound every day.”

“And no matter what anybody says about grief and about time healing all wounds, the truth is, there are certain sorrows that never fade away until the heart stops beating and the last breath is taken.”

“The loss of a friend is like that of a limb; time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired.”

“But shame is like a wound that is never exposed and therefore never heals.”

“Time heals all wounds.”

“Time heals all wounds.”
Diem adimere aegritudinem hominibus.

“Wounds are like water set to boil – they heal best left unwatched…”

“Grief was like that. It gradually faded into a dull ache, until some simple sight or sound or scent hit him like a hammer blow.”

“It's not like a stab wound you can protect me from. It's like a million little paper cuts every day.”

“Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go according to any rules. They are not like aches or wounds; they are more like splits in the skin that won't heal because there is not enough material.”