Quotes About Hopelessness

Hunger precipitated despair.

Years have passed since my heart's been anyone's destination,/ and its wounds, in this desolation,/ have lost their sheen--/ Whom can I possibly ask to pour color into them? --from "Two Elegies: 1. Appointments

La desesperanza y la soledad no se comparten en la literatura con una multitud de otros seres, porque no existe, no existirá, el personaje masivo

All the sad young men,Drifting through the town,Drinking up the night,Trying not to drown.

Ellos no saben lo que es la vejez. Vosotros no podéis imaginar este suplicio: no haber tenido nada de la vida y no esperar nada de la muerte. Que no haya nada al otro lado del mundo, que no exista explicación alguna, que la palabra del enigma no nos sea revelada jamás...

A man returns to die, between four walls, with the dawn, a collar of iron around the neck, to the withers, the tongue hanging ... as on the Goya print.

Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy, And in the withered fields where the farmer ploughs for bread in vain.

In darkness there is death.

I am caught like a beast at bay.Somewhere are people, freedom, light,But all I hear is the baying of the pack,There is no way out for me.

Humor is the politeness of despair.

Surrounded by madness, surrounded by hunger, surrounded by everything but death, I knew death was our only way out.

Who Needs the Taj Mahal when it's a drag to live at all?

I am living in hell from one day to the next. But there is nothing I can do to escape. I don't know where I would go if I did. I feel utterly powerless, and that feeling is my prision. I entered of my own free will, I locked the door, and I threw away the key.

People with dark souls have nothing but dark dreams. People with really dark souls do nothing but dream.

There's that kind of money in the world. It aggravates you to have it, makes you miserable to spend it, and you hate yourself when it's gone. And when you hate yourself, you feel like spending money. Except there's no money left. And no hope.

But finally, Mr. Wind-Up Bird, isn't that just what life is? Aren't we all trapped in the dark somewhere, and they've taken away our food and water, and we're slowly dying, little by little...?

I've got people I want to understand and be understood by. But aside from those few, well, I feel it's kind of hopeless.

Outside was pitch black. So black I felt morning might never arrive, not for all eternity.

It was as good as sealing yourself into a dungeon. Walled in, with nowhere to go but your own doom.

When you are used to the kind of life of never getting anything you want, you stop knowing what it is you want.

What I felt then was a deep terror. And a kind of hopelessness, a feeling that I could never run away from this thing, no matter how far I went. And this creature, this thing doesn't give a damn that I'm me or you're you. In its presence, all human beings lose their names and their faces. We all turn into signs, into numbers.

Stain my eyes as I may, on all sides all is black.

We're in a situation where talented, motivated school leavers and graduates can send off a hundred CVs and not get a reply, and where a trip to the Job Centre is depressing rather than inspirational. And you know what, that just feels wrong.

I like dark, hopeless, beautiful tragedies.