Quotes About Melancholy

Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.

rain slowly slides down the glass as if the night is crying.

A long long time ago, I can still remember how that music use to make me smile.

No wonder sorrow doesn't smile much. No wonder sadness is so sad.

Where has thou been all the dumb winter days When neither sunlight was nor smile of flowers, Neither life, nor love, nor frolic, Only expanse melancholic, With never a note of thy exhilarating lays?

Nostalgia paints a smile on the stony face of the past.

Every thought should recall the ruin of a smile.

To be misunderstood even by those whom one loves is the cross and bitterness of life. It is the secret of that sad and melancholy smile on the lips of great men which so few understand.

The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing.

Nostalgia is a form of depression both for a society and an individual.

As rendered by Rolland Munro, the concept of 'melancholy' in its current use 'represents not so much a state of indecision, a wavering between the choice of going one way or another, so much as it represents a backing off from the very divisions'; it stands for a 'disentanglement' from 'being attached to anything specific'. To be 'melancholic' is 'to sense the infinity of connection, but be hooked up to nothing'.

It's snowing still, said Eeyore gloomily. So it is. And freezing. Is it? Yes, said Eeyore. However, he said, brightening up a little, we haven't had an earthquake lately.

A tendancy to melancholy...let it be observed, is a misfortune, not a fault.

The passage from the big to the little is what makes Paris beautiful, and you have to be prepared to be small—to live, to trudge, to have your head down in melancholy and then lift it up, sideways—to get it.

He puts on Sam Cooke's Night Beat.

Here he lies like something melting away. His mother's blood comes quaking howling brassing bawling blacking down his mad little veins.

The moon touched my shoulder and I longed for a vanished love

Our sadness won't be of the searing kind but more like a blend of joy and melancholy: joy at the perfection we see before us, melancholy at an awareness of how seldom we are sufficiently blessed to encounter anything of its kind. The flawless object throws into perspective the mediocrity that surrounds it. We are reminded of the way we would wish things always to be and of how incomplete our lives remain.

Melancholy isn't always a disorder that needs to be cured. It can be a species of intelligent grief which arises when we come face-to-face with the certainty that disappointment is written into the script from the start.

Melancholy isn't always a disorder that needs to be cured. It can be a species of intelligent grief which arises when we come face-to-face with the certainty that disappointment is written into the script from the start.

This land, like so much of the French countryside, was a painting, but Mercier felt his heart touched with melancholy and realized, not for the first time, that beautiful places were hard on lonely people.

One colour. One word. So many shades. The color of african skin, of shadow on snow, of a jay's throat, the color of saxophones at dusk, of orbiting police lights smeared across tenement windows, of a flame's intestines, of the faint tracery of veins visible beneath the ghost-flesh of her forearm's underside, of loneliness, of melancholy. The blues.

L'avait-elle déjà fait, d'ailleurs ? Il y a en elle quelque chose de totalement virginal : une liberté rêche, une intransigeance rêveuse, une mélancolie sans prise.

I felt a weight on my chest; a sense of hot indignation which settled down into inconceivable melancholy.