Quotes About Desolation

Mad raging sunsets poured in seafoams of cloud through unimaginable crags, with every rose tint of hope beyond, I felt just like it, brilliant and bleak beyond words.

I was dealing in outblownness, cut-off-ness, snipped, blownoutness, putoutness, turned-off-ness, nothinghappens-ness, gone-ness, gone-out-ness, the snapped link.

But under it all they were men, penetrating the land of desolation and mockery and silence, puny adventurers bent on colossal adventure, pitting themselves against the might of a world as remote and alien and pulseless as the abysses of space.

Every man may reign secure in his petty tyranny, and spread terror and desolation around him, until the trump of the Archangel shall excite different emotions in his soul.

How many hopes and dreams are trapped within these bones? How many wonders lie never to be discovered? This is what war is. Desolation, despair and loss. There are no victors.

War wreaked on you his hideous ravishment; We, we alone, Nereids inviolate, Remain to weep, with the sea-birds to chant: Corinth is lost, Corinth is desolate.

After us, there was no more world to receive anyone.

War had bled color from everything, leaving nothing but a storm of gray.

"The days are hot and the dead lie unburied. We cannot fetch them all in, if we did we should not know what to do with them. The shells will bury them...

My face looks like a wedding-cake left out in the rain.

Wisdom was a teapot, pouring from above. Desolation angels, served it up with love.

Wisdom is sold in a desolate marketplace where none can come to buy.

Few deaths can match the refined agony of being the one left behind

I could no longer picture Rosalind in my mind's eye; the tender vision of the girl in white had been blown to pieces as if by a nuclear bomb. This was something unimaginable, something hollow as the yellowed husks that insects leave behind in dry grass, blowing with cold alien winds and a fine corrosive dust that shredded everything it touched.

The place felt like a weapon expertly crafted to strip you of all humanity, hollow you to a shell creature that would do anything it was told for the slim chance of someday getting out into the living world again.

There is no loneliness like the loneliness of a dead marriage.

North was only a direction indicated by a compass--if a man had one, that is, for otherwise there was no north or south or east or west; there was only the brooding desolation.

Earth looked as if some god had attacked it with a welder's torch, slashing away at it and leaving thin trails of incandescence.

In the center of that open space, a bony woman in a threadbare garment was hunched over a dead plant. Sword of Divine Fire's reaction was succinct: Fuck! The woman cringed as if he'd hit her with a bullwhip. Then: What has happened to our potato?

for now, none of the lights are on and that's all there is, black steel and slate sky.

There's hell, there's darkness, there is the sulphurous pit; burning, scalding, stench, consumption!

All those cities, all those fields and farms, with nobody, and nothing left alive. Just nothing there. I simply can't take it in.

Las Vegas was a city with no memory.

In another place, in another time, she would have felt the majesty of the beauty around her, but as she stood on the beach, she realized that she didn't feel anything at all. In a way, she felt as if she weren't really here, as if the whole thing was nothing but a dream.