Quotes About Sadness

Somos prisioneiros de guerra, disse Chacko. Nossos sonhos foram manipulados. Não pertencemos a lugar nenhum. Navegamos sem âncora por mares turbulentos. Pode ser que nunca nos permitam desembarcar em terra. A tristeza de nossas tristezas nunca vai ser suficiente. Nem a alegria da nossa felicidade, nem o tamanho de nossos sonhos. Nossas vidas nunca terão importância suficiente para serem levadas em conta.

Estha thought you were dying." "You looked so sad," Estha said. "I was happy," Ammu said, and realized that she had been.

I want to write rage but all that comes is sadness. We have been sad long enough to make this earth either weep or grow fertile. I am an anachronism, a sport, like the bee that was never meant to fly. Science said so. I am not supposed to exist. I carry death around in my body like a condemnation. But I do live. The bee flies. There must be some way to integrate death into living, neither ignoring it nor giving in to it.

I memorized Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem "Renascence," all eight pages. I said it to myself often. The words were so beautiful they made me happy to hear, but it was the sadness and the pain and the renewal that gave me hope.

Grief stays with a person for a long time.

Why wouldn't you talk to us Little Sister? I tried, Little Sister says. I did. But my voice was lost in sadness.

Ah woe is me, how sad a thing Is life within this vale of tears, Death's angel triumphs like a king, And calls aloud to all the spheres— Vanity, all is vanity. Yes

Poor souls. I feel so sorry for them.

So that's what I'm here to become. And suddenly, this word fills me with a brand of sadness I haven't felt since childhood. The kind of sadness you feel at the end of summer. When the fireflies are gone, the ponds have dried up and the plants are wilted, weary from being so green.

Suddenly, this word fills me with a sense of sadness I haven't felt since childhood. The kind of sadness you feel at the end of summer. When the fireflies are gone, the ponds are all dried up and the plants are wilted. It's no longer really summer but the air is still too warm and heavy to be fall. It's the season between seasons. It's the feeling of something dying.

Sober. So that's what I'm here to become. And suddenly, this word fills me with a brand of sadness I haven't felt since childhood. The kind of sadness you feel at the end of summer. When the fireflies are gone, the ponds have dried up and the plants are wilted, weary from being so green. It's no longer really summer but the air is still too warm and heavy to be fall. It's the season between the seasons. It's the feeling of something dying.

I felt ignorant, self-deprived, incredibly isolated, deeply and profoundly lonely and missing people, absolutely starved for affection, physically weary from alcohol, very depressed about my physical appearance, my weak muscles. Hurt and angry and sad

For a second, I felt a bottomless sadness. So completely alone. Like one of my stuffed animals at home that I that I was too old for now, that sat on the shelf in my closet, mashed against the back wall.

It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness--and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark.

Sotto la cenere della mia tristezza Non troverete il freddo e il buio Ma la fiamma ardente Di una grande gioia di vivere

Sono solo un dinosauro, come dici tu, e cerco di estinguermi senza troppa tristezza.

Maybe it's sad that these are now memories. And maybe it's not sad.

As much as I feel sad, I think that not knowing is what really bothers me.

The fact that one of these ladies was my mom made me particularly sad because my mom is beautiful. And she's always on a diet. Sometimes, my dad calls her beautiful, but she cannot hear him.

I hope it's the kind of second side that he can listen to whenever he drives alone and feel like he belongs to something whenever he's sad. I hope it can be that for him.

And I know that my aunt Helen would still be alive today if she just bought me one present like everybody else. She would be alive if I were born on a day that didn't snow. I would do anything to make this go away. I miss her terribly. I have to stop writing now because I am too sad. Love always, Charlie

I would tell you about the rest of the night, but i honestly dont remember much about it. It's all a very sad daze.

It was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time.

He begins every night really excited. He always says he feels free, and tonight is his destiny. But after awhile, he runs out of things to keep himself numb. ... the words leave him, and we can see how sad he really is