Quotes About Melancholy

Triste?ea persista, dar durerea aproape c? disp?ruse, ca ?i cum s-ar fi evaporat. Atinsese acel prag unde durerea care sfâ?ie nu mai e decât o melancolie plutitoare ce mai curând umbre?te decât r?ne?te.

Donde empiezan la inquietud y la perturbación, la tristeza buena deja el lugar a la mala.

Artists often feel sad without knowing why.

It's so hard being goth. You have to have a bad time everywhere.

That lovely voice; how I should weep for joy if I could hear it now!

Je ne parviens pas à m'expliquer comment la joie de mes réveils s'assombrit graduellement, dans le jour tombant, jusqu'à la mélancolie et au recroquevillement farouche.

She is made for moderate emotions, ash-blonde sorrow.

De grands pans du monde ressemblaient à une mélodie que l'on croit ne pouvoir oublier, hors de laquelle cependant l'on glisse, désormais contraint de la rechercher sans relâche et douloureusement .

We make great progress only at those times when we become melancholy—at those times when, discontented with the real world, we are forced to make for ourselves one more bearable. "The Theory of Ambition," an essay: JEAN-MARIE HÉRAULT DE SÉCHELLES

Her mood was suddenly in free fall, a state she knew all too well. A heaviness inside. A hollow loneliness. A need to either quarrel or cry. A downward plunge that could only be escaped by huge loss of temper, howling for her mother, or what people like teachers called going too far. Trouble on the way.

Why is it?.. I'm so sad and so lonely. But the tears just won't come.

Suddenly he is beside me. I do not know how, but we are the same age. There is something tragic about this fact.

Jag har gråa dagar och svarta stunder. Jag är inte lycklig. Dock känner jag ingen som jag ville byta med; mitt hjärta krymper ihop vid föreställningen att jag kunde vara den eller den bland mina bekanta. Nej, jag ville inte vara någon annan. ... Jag tycker inte särdeles mycket om mig själf, hvarken skalet eller innanmätet. Men jag ville inte vara någon annan.

No one was irritable; we have never known anyone to remain unhappy while digesting a good meal. We enjoy lingering in a becalmed state, a kind of midpoint between the reverie of a thinker and the contentment of a cud-chewing animal, a state that should be termed the physical melancholy of gastronomy.

Quelqu'un a-t-il fait attention au brouillard de ce matin ? dit l'employé. — C'était, dit Bianchon, un brouillard frénétique et sans exemple, un brouillard lugubre, mélancolique, vert, poussif, un brouillard Goriot. — Goriorama, dit le peintre, parce qu'on n'y voyait goutte. — Hé ! milord Gâôriotte, il être questiônne de véaus.

No one understands now. Those who could hear a song this deeply vanished long ago.

She quite liked this aspect of her personality: the way her mood could change from melancholy to euphoric because of a breeze or a flavor or a beautiful chord progression. It meant she never had to feel too down about feeling down.

He wasn't mad, he was sad.

The song is languid and speaks of love and loneliness and loss. Why does love seem to go with the sad things?

She felt a terrible hollowness open up insider her, a sense that she was all alone, that she had in fact always been all alone, that the corners of her life were folding in and folding in and that there was nothing she could do about it.

But behind the existence which falls from one present to the other, without a past, without a future, behind these sounds which decompose from day to day, peel off and slip towards death, the melody stays the same, young and firm, like a pitiless witness.

She is wearing her black dress. She isn't crying, but she never did cry, anyhow. It's a bright sunny day and she's like a black shadow creeping down the empty street.

Regret, already sogging me down, burst its dam. It seeped into my legs, it pooled in my heart.

This was a characteroloical prelude, but it wasn't chemical or somatic. It was the anatomy of melancholy, not the anatomy of his brain.