He went to the wedding at Cana as well as to the home of Mary and Martha when Lazarus died. He wept with those who wept and rejoiced with those who rejoiced.

There are countless opportunities to comfort others, not only in the loss of a loved one, but also in the daily distress that so often creeps into our lives.

Because tragedy happened to you, it gives you a greater sense of oneness with others who experience tragedy. Because we have been comforted through the Word of God, we in turn may be able to comfort others.

We don't have to be on the battlefields of the world to experience strife and conflict. We need only to open our eyes each morning and read the headlines, we need only to turn a keen ear when our phones ring with bad news, we need only to open our hearts to those next door—and maybe even in our own homes—to notice those with grieving hearts.

Grief turns us inward, but compassion turns us outward, and that's what we need when grief threatens to crush us. The Bible says, "Carry each other's burdens" [Galatians 6:2 NIV].

You can't hold a man down without staying down with him.

It is not possible for one man to hold another man down in the ditch without staying down there with him.

We bereaved are not alone. We belong to the largest company in all the world--the company of those who have known suffering.

Blindness separates people from things; deafness separates people from people.

There is joy in self-forgetfulness. So I try to make the light in others' eyes my sun, the music in others' ears my symphony, the smile on others' lips my happiness.

Then comes hope with a smile and whispers, There is joy in self-forgetfulness. So I try to make the light in others' eyes my sun, the music in others' ears my symphony, the smile on others' lips my happiness.

Many scholars forget, it seems to me, that our enjoyment of the great works of literature depends more upon the depth of our sympathy than upon our understanding.