Quotes About Gloom

And don't forget the presents, said the Chair of Indefinite Studies, as if reading off some internal list of gloom. How...how full of potential they seem in all that paper, how pregnant with possibilities...and then you open them and basically the wrapping paper was more interesting and you have to say 'How thoughtful, that will come in handy.' It's not better to give than to receive, in my opinion, it's just less embarrassing.

These folks seemed to think leeching the world of all color was cool. I decided they all must be deeply depressed.

Sometimes the loneliness had been almost too much, he thought, and always at those times he had found comfort in the woods, where he said nothing. He wondered if the others were still gloomy; no one spoke of it any longer. He smiled as he thought of how the women had wet and screamed and straddle behind him, I want to run to catch up once more.

It was the most depressing room I'd ever been in: more depressing than whatever room my parents happened to be arguing in, more depressing than my dad's hospital room, more depressing than my room right before I was made to clean it. Beyond the desk and to the left, I could see a hallway, also dark, and a series of doors on either side of it. It was the kind of hallway you see in nightmares.

My brother was a great favorite with everybody, and his death cast a gloom upon the whole neighborhood.

Ahab was inaccessible. Though nominally included in the census of Christendom, he was still an alien to it. He lived in the world, as the last of the Grisly Bears lived in settled Missouri. And as when Spring and Summer had departed, that wild Logan of the woods, burying himself in the hollow of a tree, lived out the winter there, sucking his own paws; so, in his inclement, howling old age, Ahab's soul, shut up in the caved trunk of his body, there fed upon the sullen paws of its gloom!

The intensest light of reason and revelation combined, cannot shed such blazonings upon the deeper truths in a man, as will sometimes proceed from his own profoundest gloom. Utter darkness is then his light, and cat-like he distinctly sees all objects through a medium which is mere blindness to common vision.

all was eclipsed in sinister muteness

The man oppressed with cares, he can not love; the man of gloom finds not the god.

For the first time in my life a feeling of overpowering stinging melancholy seized me. Before, I had never experienced aught but a not-unpleasing sadness. The bond of a common humanity now drew me irresistibly to gloom.

Your country baffles me: a luxurious unharmed lotus land in which great hordes of handsome dynamic people either wallow in deep gloom, or play like overexcited children, or fall to work like all the devils in hell, while the press steadily drones detestation of the government and despair of the system. I don't understand how America works, any more than Frances Trollope or Dickens did, but it's an ongoing miracle of sorts.

It was like the hate of a husband for a sick wife, a mature, solid hate, caused by an unbreakable tie to a loathsome person, and existing not as a self-justification, but for the rotten gleam of pleasure it gave off in the continuing gloom. Out

The Elephant of Depression wasn't just parked on my chest, it was relaxing there with the Walrus of Gloom and the Hippo of Bleak Friday Nights in Alone. They had beers. They were settling in.

There is only darkness, starless and complete. The waves glitter like a million dull knives.

Bond sat down on his rumpled bed and lost himself in drink and gloomy reflections.

Stop being so...optimistic, its getting on my nerves." "No problem. Do you want me to be all gloom and doom or just shut up?" "Just shut up." "Can do." "Really? Doesn't seem like it." -Jacob and seth

A crowded soul, captain, is a place of shadows and gloom. Scour it clean, and nothing will remain to block the light.

Blood-colored clouds stained the eerie crystal sky. The Darkhawk sailed low over a landscape covered with dead forests, dry plains, empty riverbeds and long-abandoned train tracks. Everything wound through a twisted network of jagged hills the color of bones, and pools of brackish water ran across the landscape like puss.

The narrow streets and modest plazas were empty of life and slick with rain, while above them the soaring ateliers brooded, their dark windows as blank as weary eyes.

No Church has done more to fill the world with gloom than the Presbyterian. Its creed is frightful, hideous, and hellish. The Presbyterian God is the monster of monsters. He is an eternal executioner, jailer and turnkey. He will enjoy forever the shrieks of the lost — the wails of the damned. Hell is the festival of the Presbyterian God.

The day was dark as a lawyer's soul.

The scenery is colorless and depressing. It looks as though life in Hell is very harsh. And lonely. Very, very lonely.

Instead of blue skies and sunshine, there are grey clouds and endless rain that seeps into your bones, your soul.

The sadness grew within her until she seemed to exist only as a dark nimbus of melancholy, and even Max could no longer cheer her with his talk and his