Quotes About Hopelessness

An exile's life is no life.

and the rest of his life lay in front of him like a barren, meaningless postscript.

She didn't mind if she died trying. Suicide was in everything she did now, and everything she thought. Suicide was her home: if she could find nothing else, then suicide would always have her.

infinite corridor of panic that led nowhere.

The absurd man will not commit suicide; he wants to live, without relinquishing any of his certainty, without a future, without hope, without illusions … and without resignation either. He stares at death with passionate attention and this fascination liberates him. He experiences the "divine irresponsibility" of the condemned man.

Nothing left but hopelessness.' Say die and I will die. Say die and watch me die.

I try, but they always see through me. The passages will never lead anywhere, the doors will always be shut.

city was lost in darkness now, and anyone left there was lost, too.

In the state I was in, if someone had come and told me I could go home quietly, that they would leave me my life whole, it would have left me cold: several hours or several years of waiting is all the same when you have lost the illusion of being eternal.

How many young people, how many young people of our Europe, whom we have left empty of ideals, who do not have work... they take drugs, alcohol, or go there to enlist in fundamentalist groups.

I only know that all is lost, and that nothing can help me unless I inherit money, strike oil or go to work.

Despair is deep. An abyss that swallows dreams. A wall at the world's end. Behind it I await death. Because all our work has come to this.

Life for most people is a bad dream. They live in pain, grabbing at what they can for pleasure. As they grow old, they despair. Things don't work out the way you planned.

In Chicago, a lot of people don't really got nothing to live for. Everybody can't ball. Everybody can't rap. Nobody is really doing those activities. There's nothing to do but the streets.

I had to fend for myself from the time I was 17 years old. I was a high-school dropout. I wasn't quite living on the streets, but I didn't have a lot of hope.

What is so striking about Liberia is that in a place where there is so much to be done, I have never seen so many people with nothing to do.

I've never been an optimist.

I'm not optimistic.

There are holes in our lives that can never be filled - not really, not ever.

I can certainly see how people are overcome by depression.

At times, I feel overwhelmed and my depression leads me into darkness.

At some point, Alice slipped one arm and then the other into the coat's sleeves, she buttoned its buttons, starting at the top. Silas had followed her, still not seeing what an emblem of defeat, shame, loss, hopelessness, the coat was. With such gaps in his understanding, he saw very clearly how the boy he'd been had grown up to be the man he was.

The sense of security which she thought she had found disappeared; the bottom fell out of her world and she felt herself falling into an abyss of unbelieving despair.

I did my best Shirley Booth this morning, floppy slippers, housecoat, curlers, can of Little Friskies; "Come back, Little Sheba, come back..." To no avail. Le chat, elle ne reviendra jamais, jamais...