Quotes About Desperation

My voice was high and desperate, and I was crying, and I hated that I was crying, but I couldn't help it. I had to keep talking, because this was it. Last chance.

Hear me out, just for a minute. Please. I'm begging you." He sounded strangled and hoarse.

IT'S NO FUN WATCHING PEOPLE WOUND THEMSELVES SO THAT THEY CAN HOLE UP, NURSE THEMSELVES BACK TO HEALTH, AND REPEAT THE CYCLE. THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.

Maybe it's becoming just a hotel again. Not the place where she stood, then sat, then knelt, palms turned down on the bedspread. Dear God, Dear Monster, Dear God, Dear Monster, she prayed that night, shaking like a junkie until the slow sun rose again.

Sri Ramakrishna said, Do not seek illumination unless you seek it as a man whose hair is on fire seeks a pond.

What are you afraid of," she said. "Daylight?" No. I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid of myself, of whatever it is I'm going to do or say to make it all go wrong. I'm desperately trying to avoid that moment and walking straight toward it, all at the same time. "I'm just tired," I said.

But in the depth of Zachary's weary, determined eyes, I saw more than a desperate longing. I saw a future.

He may attempt suicide, often not with the intent to die but to feel something, to confirm he is alive.

Because memory cannot be adequately utilized to retain an image, the borderline forgets what the object of his concern looks like, sounds like, feels like. To escape the panicky sensation of abandonment and loneliness, the borderline tries to cling desperately—calling, writing, using any means to maintain contact.

Our situation was so desperate that only the death of His own Son on a cruel and shameful cross was sufficient to resolve the problem.

We were not drowning people needing a life ring—we were dead people in need of life. Further, we were slaves to the world, to the devil, and to our own sinful natures. And as we've already seen, we were by nature objects of God's holy wrath. Dead, slaves, objects of wrath—what a desperate condition!

Heroin spread that soft blanket over everything. But once the blanket was ripped off, it took a layer of skin with it, leaving nothing but nerve ends screaming in the breeze.

Being a junkie, when you broke it down, was nothing more than a crazed day job.

I would, if one-armned and jonesing, doubtless have found a way to cook up a hearty spoon of Mexican tar and slam it with my toes. (I met a double amputee in San Francisco whose girlfriend slapped a bra strap around his throat and geezed him in the neck. Another triumph of the human spirit. But slap me if I get sentimental...)

It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom. —Edgar Allan Poe

El aire cruza rozando sus mejillas, el sudor frío se escapa de su ser, huye desesperado.

What was his plan for the future? I asked. "Don't die. Don't get old," he said. "I don't know." If things got desperate, he added, a niece and nephew had offered to take him in.

Cold, dispassionate logic is admirable, but when people are starving and desperate, it's just cruel.

Ma in molti individui per i quali, la solitudine non può essere superata in nessun modo, la ricerca dell'orgasmo sessuale assume una funzione che li rende non molto diversi da alcolizzati e dai tossicomani. Diventa un tentativo disperato di sfuggire all'ansia suscitata dal separazione e il suo risultato è un sempre crescente senso d'isolamento, poiché l'atto sessuale senza amore, non riempie mai il baratro che divide due creature umane, se non in modo assolutamente momentaneo.

Stellen Sie sich das vor. Die Menschen sind verzweifelt, weil der Boden zu viel trägt! Zu viel Getreide, und andere haben nichts zu fressen! Wenn in so eine Welt kein Blitz fährt, dann können sich die historischen Witterungsverhältnisse begraben lassen.

The tension has worn us out. It is a deadly tension that feels as if a jagged knife blade is being scraped along the spine. Our legs won't function, our hands are trembling and our bodies are like thin membranes stretched over barely repressed madness, holding in what would otherwise be an unrestrained outburst of endless scream.s. We have no flesh, no muscle now

Cautiously, the mouth applied to the valve, I breathe. The gas still creeps over the ground and sinks into all hollows. Like a big, soft jellyfish it floats into our shell-hole and lolls there obscenely.

Es ist eine tödliche Spannung, die wie ein schartiges Messer unser Rückenmark entlang kratzt. Die Beine wollen nicht mehr, die Hände zittern, der Körper ist eine dünne Haut über mühsam unterdrücktem Wahnsinn, über einem gleich hemmungslos ausbrechenden Gebrüll ohne Ende.

Obuze, mitraliere, aburi de gaze, flotile de tancuri - strivire, devorare, moarte.