Quotes About Forlorn

I love bleak things.

her face was like a party that everyone had left.

a terrible place, a cursed place," he said dreamily

I was as empty of life as a scarecrow's pockets.

A slice of spumoni wouldn't have melted on her now.

I was as empty of life as a scarecrow's pockets.

They were the walking dead.

She called him Bartleby, after the well-known scrivener: "pallidly neat, pitiably respectable, incurably forlorn." I likened him more to some form of rat terrier: arrogant.

The love of letters is the forlorn hope of the man of letters. His ruling passion is the love of fame.

Fra Lippo, we have learned from thee A lesson of humanity: To every mother's heart forlorn, In every house the Christ is born.

Music is the balm that heals the forlorn ache of a distant star.

For beauty with sorrow Is a burden hard to be borne: The evening light on the foam, and the swans, there; That music, remote, forlorn.

The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn.

This was a music engendered in the dark reaches of the heart and soul. It took its rhythms from the slow beating of the pulse and the dragging of reluctant breath. It had never set the pace for sailors at sea or for farmers bringing in the harvest. It was city music, introspective and forlorn.

Almighty Power, by whose most wise command, helpless, forlorn, uncertain, here I stand, take this faint glimmer of thyself away, or break into my soul with perfect day!

Gust-driven rain spattered back and forth in hesitant indecisive sweeps like a wispy grey soul just arrived on the empty streets of some afterworld, lost and forlorn

I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

I am no fun at all. In fact, I am anti-fun. Not as in anti-violence, but as in anti-matter. I am not so much against fun - although I suppose I kind of am - as I am the opposite of fun. I suck the fun out of a room. Or perhaps I'm just a different kind of fun; the kind that leaves on bereft of hope; the kind of fun that ends in tears.

Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope; it is impossible.

I felt like an orphan.

But of what use is it to be whitewashed and trim outside, to have pleasant creepers and tidy shutters, when inside one's soul wanders through empty rooms, mournfully shivers in damp and darkness, is hungry and no one brings it food, is cold and no one lights a fire, is miserable and tired and there's no chair to sit on?

The line storm clouds fly tattered and swift, The road is forlorn all day,...

Lord God, I feel so wretched! Lord God, I feel so wretched

I'm a lost soul. We do wail.