Quotes About Overwhelming

It was roaring, sweeping, aching, bending, a torrent carrying her away.

I think love is huge, overwhelming. I think it's terrible and beautiful.

What she felt, turning into the driveway, was a fury and pain so deep that she would never have believed a person could feel it and still remain alive.

Being a rapper and still trying to pursue an education is really overwhelming sometimes.

Flea markets tend to be overwhelming. A lot of times, when I go with a first-time shopper, they don't buy anything. The rooms in my new book involved real people with real design dilemmas. They were paralyzed to make a decision.

Life is an overwhelming bundle of loose threads. The ones you can hang on to are precious.

The Hollywood lifestyle was just overwhelming. A party here, an interview there, magazine and modeling shoots daily, your face everywhere and girls throwing themselves at you. As great as it felt at the time, I still felt something missing, and that I needed to change.

For the most part, magic secrets are available on a level that's overwhelming and frightening, and they are very accessible if you do the tiniest bit of digging. But, that said, there's a certain group of individuals, in which I am included, who are very tight about secrets and don't share them with anyone.

Severe depression, put simply, is an overwhelming and unmanageable onslaught of every normal, human fear and difficult emotion. It is a loss of and lack of perspective and proportion.

Life is a very terrible thing, mostly, with points of wonder and beauty. Most of what makes it terrible, though, is simply that there's so much of it, blaring in through the five senses.

It's overwhelming. I feel as if I am living in an illusion a dream where all things are possible. Amazing things do happen I know but always to someone else always in some far off place and time.

What he felt mostly was a relentless, grinding dread which rumbled and thundered and made the world dark, like those spaceships in science-fiction films whose battle-scorched fuselages slid onto the screen and kept on sliding onto the screen because they were, in fact, several thousand times larger than you expected when all you could see was the nose cone. The

The intellect is of no use unless it's disciplined by the mortification of the flesh, so that it may serve the soul. That's all. The intellect thinks. The body dances. And the spirit sings. A song, a simple song. When love and memory are overwhelming, and the soul, though crushed, takes flight, it does so in a simple song.

A great brain and a huge organization have been turned to the extinction of one man. It is crushing the nut with the triphammer--an absurd extravagance of energy--but the nut is very effectually crushed all the same.

His pity for them had been overwhelming; but pity was not action.

we are threatened with suffering from three directions: from our body, which is doomed to decay..., from the external world which may rage against us with overwhelming and merciless force of destruction, and finally from our relations with other men... This last source is perhaps more painful to use than any other. (p77)

You didn't beat the compotition you crushed the compotition!

The overwhelming experience of tragedy is a disorientation expressed in one bewildered and frequently repeated question: What shall I do?

Death is not a reaper, like they say, nor even a friend. It is a dark, fierce water, an inundation.

what dark power leapt beyond all bounds, beyond belief, to crush your wretched life?

To have solely one thought, but it to be capable of destroy the universe

En el estallido del volcán de nuestro ser, ¿bastaría el veneno acumulado en nosotros para envenenar al mundo entero?

And then there is, of course, always, and inevitably, this spume of poetry that's just blowing out of the sulphurous flue-holes of the earth. Just masses of poetry. It's unstoppable, it's uncorkable. There's no way to make it end. If we could just--just stop. For one year. If everybody could stop publishing their poems. No more. Stop it. Just--everyone. Every poet. Just stop. But of course that's totally unfair to the poets who are just starting out.

His dangerous, overwhelming lust for life had failed to involve him in anything deeper than perhaps half a dozen extremely casual acquaintanceships in about as many bars.