Quotes About Agony

The agony was of suddenly feeling herself so separate and so secret.

He suffers terribly all the time. He lives in fire.

You can't imagine what it's like when every moment you're conscious you're in the most frightful pain.

For a while everything became too terrible, one could scarcely bear to be conscious.

But there can be intuitions even here of a more sublime agony.

She thought, I shall die of misery and pain.

the huge machine of her misery.

Terrible sadness, dread, an agonizing desire for happiness swelled in his heart.

Mary held her heart, contracted into a point of agony.

But her heart was hurting her with its violence.

She did not understand music and it upset her, it had only sad, tragic things to say. These leaping forms, these pursuits and insistences, these elusive desperate repetitions, always seemed to her like one long cry of agony. She could not, in this company, allow herself the luxury of self-pitying tears, which was her highest tribute to the art. She looked about her and let the music gather to her the people with whom she was so deeply concerned.

Misery is the only thing in the world that has no end or edge.

The Englishman is under no constitutional obligation to believe that all men are created equal. The American agony is therefore scarcely intelligible, like a saint's self-flagellation viewed by an atheist.

In every pang that rends the heart The Man of Sorrows had a part.

Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell The tortures of that inward hell.

It's only when the markets are perceived to have exhausted themselves on the downside that they turn. Trying to prevent them from going down just merely prolongs the agony.

When I read passages like this, I want to look for the nearest wall to bang my head against.

Most people wish to be consoled, confirmed. They want their prejudices reinforced and their structured belief systems validated. After all, it hurts to think, and it's absolute agony to think twice.

It is painful enough to discover with what unconcern they speak of war and threaten it. They do not know its horrors. I have seen enough of it to make me look upon it as the sum of all evils.

We hear war called murder. It is not; it is suicide.

The wars come and go in blood and tears; but whether they are bad wars, or what are comically called good wars, they are of one effect in death and sorrow.

The essence of war is fire, famine, and pestilence. They contribute to its outbreak; they are among its weapons; they become its consequences.

No one wins a war. It is true, there are degrees of loss, but no one wins.

It is not a war. It is murder.