Quotes About Desperation

Desperation's heated breath singed my neck, its jagged teeth prepared to devour my flesh. Poverty growled too, waiting its turn, famished yet patient, a beast that dined on the bones of men.

Soon-Bok Kim closed her eyes, said rapid prayers in castellano, beat the steering wheel, begged God to save her and her stupid husband, said they would become better Christians.

În fiecare zi furam sticle de alcool, le îngropam pe cele goale È™i aveam nevoie de cantit??i din ce în ce mai mari ca s?-mi alung gândurile.

But in many individuals in whom separateness is not relieved in other ways, the search for the sexual orgasm assumes a function which makes it not very different from alcoholism and drug addiction. It becomes a desperate attempt to escape the anxiety engendered by separateness, and it results in an ever-increasing sense of separateness, since the sexual act without love never bridges the gap between two human beings, except momentarily. All

in the absence of political order, human life is "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.

The fact that I'm sitting here in the chilly leaves imagining ways to get rid of the boy I loved so much I brought him back from the dead is so ridiculous, so horrifying, it's almost funny. In an unbelievable, black humor way that's not really funny at all.

She lifted the girl's shirt, showing her ribs and the pointy bumps of her spine. They were like the bones of some animal who'd starved to death in the desert. Her flesh, the dark sand blown in thin drifts over the bones.

Can't... can't just go away. Can't just... You can't get on that train and charge out of my life. It's not fair. I can't work, dammit! I... I made a bad trade. I made a bad trade. How dare you? How dare you walk into my flat and... and then just... just walk out again? How can you even—

Comet finally lay there, eyes rolling, heart thundering, breath coming in pants, and waited for Deacon to make it better. Deacon positioned the gun, patted Comet's nose one last time, then stepped back and pulled the trigger and made it all better.

broken. "Please, God. Let him live." He slumped to the ground then, elbows holding his weight as he buried his face in his arms and cried.

Bobby cried out, groaned, and fell forward, coming that quickly, too quickly, because the white light would fade, would drain from them like come, and they would be left, just their heartbeats, alone in the darkness of an uncertain world.

Yes, sir." "Doing this?" The guy used his hat to gesture to the framed porch. "No, sir. Fucking for money.

they're all shitting themselves and dying on the path to the dock." A moan issued from the back of the house, followed by gastric sounds that almost shook the floorboards.

He wrapped his burly long arms around me, and I clung to him, furnace-heated skin and all, and prayed that should Hammer die this night, that I would die with him, and our bodies would be found just like this, twined together like roses that had grown together for too long.

Jeff's eyes opened then, and he was still desperate and still hot but suddenly very, very serious. "Live," he said. "Breathe. Be warm. Want me.

Kill me. Kill me now. "I, uhm, well, I haven't done anything that could get him pregnant?

She'll take anything. Even the network whose name we don't speak, if you know what I mean.

They say a desperate soul would do anything to get what he wants, but even a desperate soul cannot match a man who believes he has nothing to lose.

How easy it all was, to get drunk, to go mad, to vandalise, to commit fraud. Perhaps she had always had criminal tendencies;

Para cuidar y atender su educación —respondió el Conde Olar con voz reventante de orgullo, y una chispa de maligna socarronería—. Para adiestrarlo en el arte de la caza y de las armas». Era la primera vez que Sikrosio oía llamar a su padre arte a aquella suerte de desesperación colectiva que les obligaba a lanzarse unos sobre otros, espada en mano, en defensa de un palmo de tierra.

Undernourished, intelligence becomes like the bloated belly of a starving child: swollen, filled with nothing the body can use.

A mass whose desperation made them seem like the feckless, and whose drab presence drained the classroom of all colours until even the white potties at the corner glinted like diamonds. I will never forgive Hitler for turning human beings into that.

Desperate, lonely, cut off from the human community which in many cases has ceased to exist, under the sentence of violent death, wracked by desires for intimacy they do not know how to fulfil, at the same time tormented by the presence of women, men turn to logic.

But somewhere in America, between the freeways and the Food-4-Less, between the filling stations and the 5-o-'clock news, behind the blue blinking light coming off the TV, there is a space, an empty space, between us, around us, inside us, that inevitable, desperate, begs to be filled up. And nothing, not shame, not God, not a new microwave, not a wide-screen TV or that new diet with grapefruits, can ever, ever fill it. Underneath all that white noise there's a lack.