Quotes About Helpless

There is a lovable quality about the actual tools. One feels so kindly to the thing that enables the hand to obey the brain. Moreover, one feels a good deal of respect for it; without it the brain and the hand would be helpless.

the lane to my left wasn't as far back as I thought. The very last inch of my back bumper caught the very front corner of the truck's cab. That was enough. I lost all control of my car, which executed a slow and stately counterclockwise turn, ending with my driver's side flush into the front of the truck, still speeding down the freeway. It was slow and stately from my perspective, anyway. I felt as if I were trapped in amber, watching helplessly as my car moved of its own

I am clearly content to be beyond help.

He was being the scrupulously honorable gentleman, she realized, protecting her name, taking the consequences of his own indiscretion. She understood all that and was grateful for it. And resentful of it. How helpless women were. The pawns of men. To be tripped up and pitched headlong into the dirt by men, and then to be picked up by them and dusted off and restored to uprightness. But that was the way of the world.

She had had that helpless feeling again, the one that had had her tossing and turning all night, sleepless spells intermingled with troubled dreams.

He had spent almost two years hearing a baby cry in his nightmares while he found it impossible to reach her.

Oh, how helpless women were. All they could do was nurture those people within the small confines of their world. But who knew? Perhaps nurturing was ultimately as important as anything else. Look where the wars waged by men had got the world. Into ever more wars and conflicts—that was where.

The notable thing about his story here is not its atheism but its fatalism. The drama that it presents of helpless humans enslaved by a callous fate-figure is, of course, not new and, like all such myths, it conveys not just meaninglessness but a positive, sinister meaning – the presence of an active oppressor.

Being dead is absurd. It's the silliest situation you'll find yourself in. Your limbs are floppy and uncooperative. Your mouth hangs open. Being dead is unsightly and stinky and embarrassing, and there's not a damn thing to be done about it.

There was one thing that stood like stone among the music and moonfroth of the evening's gaieties. It was stupid, it was terrifying, it was wonderful, but it had happened and I could do nothing about it. For better or worse, I was head over ears in love...

But reason was helpless against demagogy.

You stood here and watched the storm with the greatest pride one can ever feel—because you are able to have summer flowers and half-naked women in your house on a night like this, in demonstration of your victory over that storm. And if it weren't for you, most of those who are here would be left helpless at the mercy of that wind in the middle of some such plain.

Once I stand and watch helplessly while some rug rat pulls everything he can reach off the racks, and the thought that abortion is wasted on the unborn must show on my face, because his mother finally tells him to stop.

Sometimes history cleaves and for one helpless moment stands still like the pause when the ax splits a log and the two halves rest on end waiting to fall.

It conjured up an image of fate, not blind at all but equipped with sentient 20/20 vision and intent on grinding helpless mortals between the great millstones of the universe to make some unknown bread.

A woman in love is helpless.

He was helpless, and he knew it. But he was too stupid, and too truculent.

Parenthood, like death, is an event for which it is nearly impossible to be prepared. It brings you into a new relationship with the fact of your own existence, a relationship in which one may be rendered helpless.

That's what interested me: their characters. I wanted to know what they had acquired from the world around them and how their formative experiences found expression in a dimly lighted basement in Glen Ridge. What was it in their upbringing as children and adolescents, so seemingly comfortable and secure, that inclined them to take pleasure in the conscious degradation of a helpless woman?

there was nothing I could do for her, or for Miller either.

I'm losing control."-Brittany Mamacita, I've already lost it."-Alex

I am trapped in this body, and there is nothing I can do about it.

It'll leave you feeling hollow and helpless, and there is where you'll stay. Ain't it funny child, love sometimes leaves you as dead as yesterday.

Ich bin auf Erfahrungen angewiesen, die ich nicht begrifflich fassen kann, die mich hilflos machen und von daher narrativ.