Quotes About Desperation

I'm way too famous and rich to be on a dating app, but if I get very desperate by the time I'm 60, I'll go on Tinder. Or I'll go on 'Millionaire Matchmaker'; I'll call Patti Stanger.

I was really desperate. I don't know if you can remember back that far, but when I went to graduate school they didn't want females in graduate school. They were very open about it. They didn't mince their words. But then I got in and I got my degree.

Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell has endorsed and enabled a doctrine of obstructionism that's prevented Americans from seeing the help and progress they desperately need.

We run away from one thing into the other and destroy ourselves in the process, he said. We just simply go away until we have given up, so he said. Preference

El lenguaje es inútil cuando se trata de decir la verdad, de comunicar cosas, sólo permite al que escribe la aproximación, siempre, únicamente, una aproximación desesperada y, por ello, dudosa al objeto, el lenguaje sólo reproduce una autenticidad falsificada, una deformación espantosa, por mucho que el que escribe se esfuerce, las palabras lo aplastan todo contra el suelo y lo dislocan todo y convierten la verdad total en mentira sobre el papel.

Wertheimer was afraid of losing his unhappiness and killed himself for this and no other reason, I thought, with

In the knowledge that nothing at all is certain and that nothing at all is perfect, we should, even with the greatest doubts, begin and continue whatever we have determined to do. If we give up each time even before we have started, we eventually find ourselves in desperation, and finally and ultimately we no longer get out of that desperation and are lost.

For a long time, there had no longer been any books capable of saving him, but only sentences, individual sentences, from Novalis, for instance, from Montaigne, from Spinoza, or from Pascal, which he had to clutch at from time to time in order not to go under.

Cuando me acuesto, no tengo otro deseo que morir, no despertarme más, pero entonces me despierto otra vez y ese espantoso proceso se repite, se repite en definitiva durante cincuenta años, según él. Si pensamos que, durante cincuenta años, no hemos deseado otra cosa que estar muertos, y que seguimos viviendo aún y no podemos cambiar nada, porque somos totalmente inconsecuentes, según él. Porque somos la miseria misma, la bajeza misma.

O, you have torn my life all to pieces... made me be what I prayed you in pity not to make me be again!

She tried to pray to God, but it was her husband who really had her supplication. Her idolatry of this man was such that she herself almost feared it to be ill-omened. She was conscious of the notion expressed by Friar Lawerence, These violent delights have violent ends. It might be too desperate for human conditions--too rank, too wild, too deadly.

Though not cold-natured, he was rather bright than hot – less Byronic than Shelleyan; could love desperately, but his love more especially inclined to the imaginative and ethereal.

He knew that a middle-aged man can be so desperate for wisdom he may try to make some up, and how deadly that can be to a youngster who believes him.

She has stepped out into a different night, a different town altogether, one of those first-person-shooter towns that you can drive around in seemingly forever, but never away from. The only humanity visible are virtual extras in the distance, none offering any of the help she needs.

At the corner store they invaded a hot dog stand and drank pina colada to sober up. It did no good.

Exhausted, hardly knowing what she was doing, she came the last three steps and sat, took the man in her arms, actually held him, gazing out of her smudged eyes down the stairs, back into the morning. She felt wetness against her breast and saw that he was crying again. He hardly breathed but tears came as if being pumped. I can't help, she whispered, rocking him, I can't help. It was already too many miles to Fresno.

It is the dark, hard, tobacco-starved, headachey, sour-stomached, middle of the day, a million bureaucrats are diligently plotting death and some of them know it, many about now are already onto the second or third pint or highball glass, which produces a certain desperate aura here.

For trees, who see so much sorrow, so much anger, so much desperation, know love for the rare wonder of it, so they are champions of it and will do whatever they can to help it along its way.

Please, God. I am a smart woman, I know words, I've read books; he's just a guy, he's just a person, I can speak to him. "Hmm," I say, and during the subsequent silence, I consider ways to kill myself.

pain. Let me bear it. His grasp on her tightened, and he willed all the strength of his heart, his body, into hers. God forgive him, but he'd sacrifice the babe if only he could keep his bonny wife. How would he go on without her? She must live. She

Wantonness might be sheer desperation, masking a suicidal self-debasement, but it might also represent a joyful, lusty sexuality that indicated, at heart, a vast generosity of spirit.

And she knew that no matter how fast she moved, she could not reach her mother quickly enough, and the doctor would be too slow, and tomorrow would be terrible in a way that would make her long for the security of all her old dissatisfactions.

I find waiting unbearable because it makes me passive and negates me. I hate being nothing.

If there's nobody left, even if the real world is saved, I will be destroyed... So please don't die. Please don't go away anymore... -Lenalee Lee