Quotes About Desperation

he naturally clung desperately to his job.

DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME, JEZEBEL! DON'T YOU DARE! Or I'll follow you to the next world and KILL you.

He sat where he was, on Mouse, in the grip of terrible indecision. He almost wished something would happen—a sudden attack of Mexicans or something. He might be killed, but at least he wouldn't have to make a choice between disobeying Mr. Gus and disobeying Lorena.

Monkey John looked at the dead boy. By God, life is cheap up here on the goddamned Canadian River. Cheap, Blue Duck answered. And it might get cheaper.

In the night Lorena tried to sort it out in her mind. She had been hungry so much, tired so much, scared so much, that her mind didn't work well anymore. Sometimes she would try to remember something and couldn't—it was as if her mind and memory had gone and hidden somewhere until things were better.

One minute with him is all I ask; one minute alone with him, while you're runnin' for th' priest an' th' doctor. - Sean O'Casey, The Plow and the Stars

To desperately hope, I whispered James let out a breath. To gratefully believe.

I know that look, Blake. You are a drowning woman, and the only way out is down the aisle.

It was one of those hugs when it feels almost like you're trying to meld yourself into the other person. Sometimes it's sexual, but sometimes it's because the world has gone too wrong and you need something to cling to.

You have given me hope,and I curse you for it. I thought I had given up on such useless thoughts, but there it is, The last refuge of madmen and dreamers -Dr.Zhir, Star Trek:TNG:NightShade-

I'm a refugee from happiness with nowhere else to go.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die ,die..

I open a paperclip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this. A whimper, a peep? I draw little window cracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting.

Look at the stupid, poor people. Look at the stupid, poor, burned-out people. Look at the stupid, poor, burned-out people, look at their dead baby. It's death porn for the masses.

I open up a paper clip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this? A whimper, a peep? I draw little windowcracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting. It looks like I arm-wrestled a rosebush.

Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of strange little girls screaming through their fingers. My patient sisters, always waiting for me. I scroll through our confessions and rants and prayers, desperation eating us one slow bloody bite at a time.

He's finally admitting how desperate things are, but he doesn't think treatment will work.' 'Why not?' 'You don't want to get better. He says nothing will work until you want to be healthy and have a real life.

The desperation to support an untenable position to which one is nonetheless committed has caused centuries of extreme mental gymnastics.

Or cut my own throat as I had cut the throat of the girl. Wolfe Tone, jailed after the Irish Rebellion of 1798, had sawed through his throat with a penknife. I wondered if I could do the same. Would the hand falter?

In LA, I mean, here's this place full of desperate and sad people who take their only pleasure from destroying others for the purposes of their own self-aggrandizement.

She's hiding and no one else sees. She's dying and no one else notices.

Help!" he yelled and he lifted one leg, trying to run. But you can't outrun the membrane — he was soon gone.

All I was trying to do when they caught me was bury my mother in an unmarked grave.

The girl sleeping and the finisher, willing himself to finish her.Why didn't he finish her?Why couldn't he finish her?