Quotes About Desolation

Faith in God is an opening up, a letting go, a deep trust, a free act of love--but sometimes it was so hard to love. Sometimes my heart was sinking so fast with anger, desolation and weariness, I was afraid it would sink to the very bottom of the Pacific and I would not be able to lift it back up.

Faith in God is an opening up, a letting go, a deep trust, a free act of love—but sometimes it was so hard to love. Sometimes my heart was sinking so fast with anger, desolation

Sur cette côte normande, à une heure aussi matinale, je n'avais besoin de personne. La présence des mouettes me dérangeai: je les fis fuir à coups de pierres. Et leurs cris d'une stridence surnaturelle, je compris que c'était justement cela qu'il me fallait, que le sinistre seul pouvait m'apaiser, et que c'est pour le rencontrer que je m'étais levé avant le jour.

She was bereft of love. She had never, not once in her life, been truly in love.

She felt like a dry branch, sticking out of the air. Brittle, covered in old bark. Maybe she was thirsty, but there was no water nearby. And above all the suffocating certainty that if a man were to embrace her at that moment she would feel not a soft sweetness in her nerves, but lime juice stinging them, her body like wood near fire, warped, crackling, dry.

Instead of obtaining myself by fleeing, I find myself forsaken, alone, tossed into a dimensionless cubicle, where light and shadow are quiet ghosts. In my interior I find the silence I seek. But in it I become so lost from any memory of a human being and of myself that I make this impression into the certainty of physical solitude. If I were to scream - already without lucidity I imagine - my voice would receive the same, indifferent echo of the walls of the earth

She just stood there and looked at the empty highway, and you could almost tell how bored she was by the way she stood.

When everything has left you, you are alone. When you have left everything, you are lonely.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.

Their eyes seemed to see another life—a life that was losing clarity and focus. And those beasts that had been there the longest could see only wire mesh and concrete. All memories of the past had drained from them. They sat on their logs and their rocks, their heads slowly scrolling left and right like dementia patients, mesmerized by the passing visitors but not at all interested in

The absence of love is the most abject pain.

I, he thinks, who am so soiled in life's battle, so seamed and scarred, so numb, so unwanted, so cold.

Nothing hurts, or perhaps it's that everything hurts, because there is no separate pain that he can pick out. But the cold strikes him, just in one place: just through his cheekbone as it rests on the cobbles.

This was school, and everything he'd feared. Barren, jarring, stale, always lonely and never alone. He had known it would be bad, and it was.

North Korea is perhaps the darkest place in the world. The country lacks electricity; everything is gray and monotone

All I wanted was to be part of an underground world where the sun doesn't shine, there are no love songs, and the sound of children's laughter is never, ever heard.

I believe in the lust of the flesh and the incurable desolation of the soul.

Since no one loves me, I'll go.

I have seen this place so many times in my night terrors that, even half-demolished, I cannot help but feel like I am in another awful dream.

Cardan was left to be suckled by a little black cat whose kittens came stillborn.' 'He survived on cat milk?' I exclaim. ... I think again of the globe I held in Eldred's study, of Cardan dressed in rags, looking to the woman in my chamber for approval, which came only when he was awful. An abandoned prince, weaned on cat milk and cruelty, left to roam the palace like a little ghost.

He looked like some plant bleached by darkness.

Desolate' was the most perfectly beautiful word for how she felt. Sometimes

if you could float when there was no room, no space anywhere, above, below, when you couldn't take a step without feeling the spongy give of rotting stuff beneath your feet. She

Arthur … And now it was all in ruins