Quotes About Helpless

This is what it feels like to love someone. The fear that they could be harmed and you'd be helpless keeps you up at night. It's a rift in your logic. It turns you from sensible into someone who's inside out.

These women, capable of the most sublime emotions, of the tenderest sympathies, were openmouthed and screaming. They wanted to live, they were helpless, likes rats in a trap, and they screamed.

We have no control over what haunts us. We're helpless to it.

It's miserable to feel unwanted for reasons beyond your control.

see the question now as the equivalent of a cry of helpless rage, another way of saying How could this have happened when everything was normal.

Not being able to do anything because you're sick sucks!

We pay too little attention to the reserve power of the people to take care of themselves. We are too solicitous for government intervention, on the theory, first, that the people themselves are helpless, and second, that the government has superior capacity for action. Often times both of these conclusions are wrong.

Mine are the deep-seated fears established when we are children, and they never quite go away: the fear of being helpless, the fear of being trapped, the fear of being out of control.

Suppose the hellfire of the orthodox really existed! We have no assurance that it does not! It seems incredible, but many incredible things are true. We do not know that God is not as cruel as a Spanish inquisitor. Suppose, then, He is! If, after Death, we wicked ones were shovelled into a furnace of fire- we should have to burn. There would be no redress. It would simply be the Divine Order of things. It is outrageous that we should be so helpless and so dependent on any one- even God.

I have no mouth. And I must scream.

Never does one feel oneself so utterly helpless as in trying to speak comfort for great bereavement.

Only he who is helpless can truly pray.

Yielding flesh in his hands, hot with fear, sticky with sweat and blood and already smelling of heaven. Helpless bones his to crack, helpless skin his to rip open, sweet red river his to drink from. He had to do it. He had to know. With his eyes and his hands, with all his body, he had to see.

Hope is ever the greatest luxury of the helpless, the capacity to suppose knowledge that circumstances denied.

The God the tradition spoke of must necessarily wish for the well-being of His creations. Either there was no such God, then....or perhaps there existed only a God who could do nothing to alter the world's evils. Then did God quake in helpless fear at the roar of fire, the cry of a mob? Did God too tremble at times with the rage and confusion?

In this twilight they were more imagined than seen, but I felt surrounded by the practitioners of a sacred mediocrity, an elegant mediocrity cloistering inaccessible tortures. I don't know quite how to put it. People, men, proud of their cliches yet full of helpless poetry.

Though simple and obvious as an act of art, the drawing portrayed the silly, helpless tendency of fundamental things to get way off course and turn into nonsense, illustrated the church's grotesque pearling around its traditional heart, explained the pernicious extrapolating rules and observances of governments - implicated all of us in a gradual apostasy from every perfect thing we find or make.

Because we all believed we were tragic, and we drank. We had that helpless, destined feeling.

The sound of her breathing reminded me, as it so often did, of how vulnerable she was. And how vulnerable we were because of how much we loved her. The fear - that something could happen to her at any moment, something I'd be helpless to stop - had become so omnipresent in my life that I sometimes pictured it growing, like a third arm, out of the center of my chest.

But for the hours of the night, I was helpless; powerless to move as a dragonfly in amber.

Love is not instant. Infatuation is instant. Love is a thing that begins with the most shallow of roots that reach the depths of our souls only after we've given ourselves up to the helplessness of it. And when it's true love, we are truly helpless.

A carefully cultivated heart will, assisted by the grace of God, foresee, forestall, or transform most of the painful situations before which others stand like helpless children saying "Why?

Hundreds of thousands of silkworms are going to die a horrible death," she bawled, "and I won't be able to do a single thing about

She'd choose awkward over ignored. "What do you wish people would say?" I ask. Julie thinks about this. "They can say, 'I'm so sorry.' They can say, 'How can I be helpful?' Or 'I feel so helpless but I care about you.'" She shifts on the couch, her thinner frame not quite filling out her clothes.