“SORROW” на русском языке

But there was something like sorrow leaking from Clotho, as if she, too, had wanted to see that sheet filled today.

“I am not,” he said with a mixture of smugness and sorrow.

The story of the image, true or not, was of no importance to the chieftain, who was in sorrow.

The shouting, the weeping, the need to change everything: their feelings take precedence over the emotions of the people who can get up after a moulting, put a skin aside, and feel quiet sorrow for what’s been lost without having to abandon everything that went with that life.

It had required all of Cassian’s training, every horror he’d endured on and off the battlefield, to keep that same crushing sorrow from his own face.

The chieftain, who was otherwise so blessed with well-being, had a great sorrow which overshadowed his whole life: His only son and heir was blind.

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling the need to apologise, as if sorrow would kill them all in that deadly place.

Weariness hung on him like a cloak, and a sharp knife of sorrow twisted in his gut.

He let it go, hoping his sorrow left with the wind.

I speak from knowledge when I say this brings only sorrow.

And saw pain and sorrow in their tear-streaked faces, but also the openness of letting each other see the broken places deep inside.