Quotes About Desperation

Desperation is a millstone. It wears away at the very soul, grinding away pity, kindness, humanity and courage. But sometimes it whets the mind to a sharpened point and creates moments of true brilliance. And standing there, nose tickled by the dusty hide of the stuffed deer head, such a moment visited Mosca Mye.

Making a wish is like saying, 'I can't deal with anything, I give up, somebody bigger come along and solve it all instead.

I feel like I'm holding my breath all the time, never knowing when my lungs will just give up. The air we're supposed to breathe is up above – I can feel it.

Mistress Gotely!" she shouted, her voice echoing blasphemously throughout the chapel. "Beth! Alys! Help me!" They would not come to her aid, she knew that. She was alone. But the other servants might hear her, and it would mean something to be remembered. She wanted them to know that she had not gone willingly or quietly. If they remembered that, she would still be something, if only a scar on their memories, a pang of guilt they tried to ignore.

The Devil has no better friend than an empty belly.

In Selphin's gaze, Hark saw desperation, terror, rage, and a will as relentless as winter. He had just enough time to realize how wrong he was before she turned and jumped.

and everyone would stare at me because they were starving.

Man stands on the brink of hell. The forces building up in our world are so overwhelming that man everywhere is beginning to cry out in desperation: "What must I do to be saved?

Never has there been a time when men tried so desperately to have fun as they do today.

At some point, I gave up on searching... but I've desperately needed to find... a place to belong.

But Yates was desperate enough to put aside his anxiety and give teaching a try. He could think of no more demoralizing prospect, after all, than an indefinite future of PR work—insipid, time-consuming, exhausting, and damaging to one's talent, not to mention sanity.

The poor souls on the other side of the gate bars were merely frightened papa-sans and mama-sans clinging as fast to their children as they were to their hopes—families to whom the United States had made a promise. They'd bet their lives on that promise, and now they were going to lose. He was haunted by their pleading eyes. A

Those events, held in mid-December at another Kubla Khan luxe resort, are a Ford Bronco chase of trades and desperation, capitalism on a four-day crack toot.

The heavens may be far from humane, but I'd had about all I could take. So

In desperation Veronica opened her mouth wide and yawned loudly in Simon's face. To her dismay Simon yawned back happily. "Gosh, that's pretty funny, huh, Ronnie, how yawns are contagious. Of course, the lack of oxygen, which triggers the response of opening the mouth, can't scientifically be explained by—" Veronica regarded Simon with revulsion.

Suicide offers quick authority over a life that feels it has lost all agency.

I am caught like a beast at bay.Somewhere are people, freedom, light,But all I hear is the baying of the pack,There is no way out for me.

And all the beautiful words of the poets, Cornelius, can say nothing, I swear to you, of the fifty thousand ways to die like a dog, within a few hours.

One must have been, at some time or other, in a situation where a small sum was as necessary almost as life itself, with no more ability to raise it than to raise the dead, before he can fully appreciate the value of money.

I ducked inside, my mind still numb. The stench came first, the acid smells of urine and the never-mistaken stink of fecal matter. Something was burning—I think I knew what—and the damp yellow odor of sweat seemed to be coming from the walls. But there was something else here. The smell, not of death, but of predeath, like gangrene, like something dying and decomposing while still breathing. The

It was while he was lost in that thought that Granite Man punched him deep in the stomach. The fist followed through to the point where it seemed the knuckles must have reached the fabric of the couch. Myron snapped closed at the waist. He dropped to the floor, struggled to regain a breath, suffocating from within. He lowered his head to his knees, consumed with one thought: air. He needed air. Susan

He squinted at the fluorescent light on the white ceiling. The Spanish praying continued. The familiar smell filled the air, that combination of harsh cleaners, bodily functions, wilting fauna and absolutely no natural air circulation. Mike's head dropped to the left. He saw the back of a woman hunched over a bed. Her fingers moved over the prayer beads. Her head seemed to be resting on a man's chest. She alternated between sobs and prayers—and a blend of the two. He

It was the type of bad that made you want to do anything to please— —oh God please— —make it stop. It made you think about picking up a gun and silencing the sounds, if you knew where you were, if you knew that you were so close to your bedside table where you kept a gun in that small safe . . . Maya

We all have our scars and torment and ghosts. We all walk around and smile and pretend everything is okay. We are polite to strangers and share the road with them and stand in line at the supermarket and we manage to disguise the hurt and desperation. We work hard and make plans and more often than not, that all goes to hell.