The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens wrote on May 18th 2004, 14:50:04 about
| Amount of texts to »sorrow« | 19, and there are 19 texts (100.00%) with a rating above the adjusted level (-3) |
| Average lenght of texts | 159 Characters |
| Average Rating | 6.789 points, 0 Not rated texts |
| First text | on Apr 19th 2000, 05:17:50 wrote Lori about sorrow |
| Latest text | on Mar 12th 2007, 21:00:23 wrote Emma Example about sorrow |
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(overall: 0) |
Random associativity, rated above-average positively
Texts to »Sorrow«
whatevernext96 wrote on Nov 30th 2001, 21:27:22 about
sorrow
Rating: 10 point(s) | Read and rate text individually'A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief'. Yes, but before that happened, he must surely also have been a man of some cheerfulness, even joy, and a sense of humour. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so kind, understanding and beloved of so many.
whatevernext96 wrote on Nov 18th 2001, 17:42:07 about
sorrow
Rating: 13 point(s) | Read and rate text individuallyThe true tragedy of sorrow was summed up (as so much else was) in 'The Little Prince': »I could not reach him – it is such a lonely place, the Land of Tears«.
Levelyn wrote on May 31st 2001, 13:59:49 about
sorrow
Rating: 13 point(s) | Read and rate text individually
Sorrow will take care of the understanding of greater meanings of life, the soul floats on sorrow
quetzalcoatl wrote on Mar 26th 2001, 14:35:36 about
sorrow
Rating: 20 point(s) | Read and rate text individuallyThe sorrow of departure is more than made up by the joy of reunion.
Niniel wrote on Feb 15th 2006, 22:49:57 about
sorrow
Rating: 7 point(s) | Read and rate text individually
Sorrow is a quite strange feeling. Sometimes you think it will break your heart into pieces. Sometimes you might even miss sorrow, just because you want to know if you are still able to feel anything.
fred wrote on Apr 19th 2001, 08:43:20 about
sorrow
Rating: 8 point(s) | Read and rate text individually
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
WHOSE woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost
rahelab wrote on May 25th 2000, 02:54:22 about
sorrow
Rating: 12 point(s) | Read and rate text individuallySorrow can break your heart, if not physically, then certainly metaphorically.
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