Quotes About Melancholy

All dark and comfortless.

too much sadness hath congealed your blood, And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops. Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.

cayó en la melancolía, luego en la inapetencia, de allí en el insomnio, de éste en el abatimiento, más tarde en el delirio y, por esta fatal pendiente, en la locura, que ahora le hace desvariar y que todos lamentamos.

O hateful error, melancholy's child. Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error soon22 conceived, 70      Thou never comest unto a happy birth, But kill'st the mother that engendered23 thee.

Now the melancholy of God protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, and their intent everywhere, for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing.

O that I were a mockery king of snow Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke To melt myself away in water drops!

How is it that the clouds still hang on you? HAMLET Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?

Tell me, sweet lord, what is 't that takes from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth And start so often when thou sit'st alone? Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks And given my treasures and my rights of thee To thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy?

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world.

Le han visto allí muchas mañanas, aumentando con su llanto el rocío de la mañana, añadiendo a las nubes sus nubes de suspiros. Mas, en cuanto el sol, que todo alegra, comienza a descorrer por el remoto oriente las oscuras cortinas del lecho de Aurora, mi melancólico hijo huye de la luz y se encierra solitario en su aposento, cerrando las ventanas, expulsando toda luz y creándose una noche artificial

No, coz, I rather weep. - Benvolio

I suddenly encountered the face of loneliness, and decided that it was a merciless and ugly face indeed.

The trouble with music was that in some way it was too nostalgic...every tune seemed to exist with its notes firmly rooted in an event or an emotion or a period of time.

I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed.

Then a few more days and boom, green is everywhere and spring has come to Manhattan and in Central Park you see blossoms and petals unfolding and the air smells of nostalgia and you want to kill yourself. Why? Because it's too beautiful to handle; the pineal gland secretes Unspeakable Melancholy Juice, and you don't know where to put all those feelings that are stampeding inside and God forbid at that point your love life is not going too well. Get the revolver.

You've been awash in melancholy for days. Don't tell me you've never completely gotten over the end of truffle season?

Every one of Joel's important songs--including the happy ones--are ultimately about loneliness. And it's not 'clever lonely' (like Morrissey) or 'interesting lonely' (like Radiohead); it's 'lonely lonely,' like the way it feels when you're being hugged by someone and it somehow makes you sadder.

Once in a while, groundless melancholy would darken my face, a dull and incomprehensible nostalgia for times never experienced would invade me.

Every day it will be the same thing: at dusk I begin to feel melancholy and pensive.

La consuelo haciéndole entender que también yo padezco la vasta e informe melancolía de haber sido creado.

In no sense an intellectual, I write with my body. And what I write is like a dank haze. The words are sounds transfused with shadows that intersect unevenly, stalactites, woven lace, transposed organ music. I can scarcely invoke the words to describe this pattern, vibrant and rich, morbid and obscure, its counterpoint the deep bass of sorrow.

I could never again see the evening sun fading into oblivion without feeling lonely.