Quotes About Desperation

I gave one last cry, trying to free my hands, trying to fix upon him, for I knew full well what he meant to do. In a dark flash of movement, he was gone, and I was lying on the floor. The candle had fallen over on the desk and had gone out. Only the light of the dying fire filled the little room. And the shutters of the door stood open, and the rain was falling, thin and quiet, yet steady. And I knew I was completely alone.

This is when you pray, she thought miserably and quietly. This is when you pray to nothing and no one to take away the terror of what you've done, to make it right, to make it that you never never came here.

the moral world seemed some desperate dream of rationality that in this lush and fetid jungle had not the slightest chance.

I had scarce time to grab a few important scrolls. Desperately I sought for Ovid, whom Pandora had so loved, and for the great tragedians of Greece. Avicus reached out his arms to help me.

No, but one can feel desperate at any age, don't you think? The young are eternally desperate," he said frankly. "And books, they offer one hope –that a whole universe might open up from between the covers, and falling into that new universe, one is saved.

Maybe I was going mad. There had been enough pain for it and enough magic; there had been enough hunger, and enough blood.

You squirm on the end of a hook, you're a doomed catch from the sea, and you do not even know that you are no longer in the life-sustaining water.

I wanted love and goodness in this which is living death,' I said. 'It was impossible from the beginning, because you cannot have love and goodness when you do what you know to be evil, what you know to be wrong. You can only have the desperate confusion and longing and the chasing of phantom goodness in its human form.

No, but one can feel desperate at any age, don't you think? The young are eternally desperate," he said frankly. "And books, they offer one hope—that a whole universe might open up from between the covers

Something sordid and evil lay behind her recent fortunes here yet she displaying nothing of the desperation she surely must feel.

You never, never ask a young man to take you anywhere, Molly. It's cheap. It sounds desperate. It sounds like you can't get a date any other way. With your height and those big breasts, you're always going to have to be careful not to look desperate. A real beauty can get away with it, maybe, but the rest of us ordinary girls have to be very, very careful not to look desperate.

I don't love you," he said. And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a kiss of passion and desperation, a kiss of deep currents and longing. "I don't love you," he said again. "Of course you don't," she murmured happily. And she followed him out the door, into the lion's den.

He was human, he was warm and strong and ready to kill to keep her safe. What more could a girl want in a man?

He turned back, and there was an odd light in his eyes. "Did I ever tell you that I can't live without you?" he said. "No," she said. "You can tell me about it when we survive." She could barely breathe, death was eating its way toward her, and she wanted to laugh out loud with the joy of it.

Would the hydrogen catch fire? Alek grasped the edge of the window, hardly feeling the broken glass against his palms. "Deryn" he sobbed. Anything but this.

The world in which I found myself was horrifying. In that world, people fought with sharpened rasp files, ate dogs, covered their faces with tattoos and sodomized goats. In that world, people killed for a package of tea.

he must cook and eat the child.

The sensation of being owned rushed through her bloodstream, unlike anything else she'd ever experienced. Between them, wrapped in their passion, she felt small, female, possessed... and shockingly submissive. Just like the night she'd taken them both into her mouth and pleased them, she wanted to give them everything she could, whatever would thrill them. She felt desperate to show them how much she yearned to give to herself.

He could do little. Brandy might help, he thought, but when he poured some into the hurt man's mouth it ran back out again. Presently a colonel, Johnston's chief of staff, came hurrying into the ravine. But he could do nothing either. He knelt down facing the general. "Johnston, do you know me? Johnston, do you know me?" he kept asking, over and over, nudging the general's shoulder as he spoke. But Johnston did not know him. Johnston was dead.

He felt split in two, one crazy man eating hair and one rational man watching a crazy man eat hair. He chewed and swallowed the last pieces of his father's life. He felt like he was building a museum of pain, a freak show, where he was the only visitor viewing the only mutant screaming the only prayer he knew: Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back Daddy...

If I had a baseball bat and bulldozer, maybe I could stop him. But without real weapons, without a pistol, a man-eating lion, and a vial of bubonic plague, I had zero change of competing against him.

I read with equal parts joy and desperation. I loved those books, but I also knew that love had only one purpose. I was trying to save my life.

I would steal horses for you, if there were any left

Sherman Alexie (Author)