Her grief was rising to the surface.

It was Cailech, not Wyl, whose anger and grief rose now, who raised the sword and ran at the barshi.

Anger, and a grief we terrible because she didn't know whether it was for herself or r him, rose like nauseous phlegm in her throat, choking speech.

Suddenly the old grief rose up and folded him in its gray embrace and he wanted his father.

His own griefs rose to the call of the mountain pipes.

Despair and grief rose in a great, dark wave, crashed down upon Silvan and dragged him under.

Rage and grief rose in Karel's blood.

Rage and grief rose up and threatened to overwhelm him.

Suddenly the grief rose in her, and she couldn't contain it.

My grief was rising, a tide that included all the losses, the dead and the undead.