Quotes About Melancholy

Should you ask me if I'm happy, I shall answer that I'm not.

Beautiful was my love, yet melancholy.

Divan beše moj ljubljeni, a melanholi?an.

I am not a pessimist, I am merely sad.

A happy past in whose remembrance I would also be happy, with nothing in the present that would cheer or even interest me, with no dream or possibility of a future that could be any different from this present or have a past other than this past! – here lies my life, a conscious ghost of a paradise I never knew, a stillborn corpse of my unrealized hopes.

I open the window. Everything outside is so gentle, yet it pierces me with an indefinable pain, a vague feeling of discontent.

Both objectively and subjectively speaking, I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of everything, and of everything about everything.

It requires prodigious intelligence to be reduced to anguish by a day of lowering skies.

The rain outside was cold in Hadrian's soul.

Las grandes melancolías, las tristezas llenas de tedio no pueden existir sino en un ambiente confortable y de lujo sobrio.

Sinto a tristeza tanto - uma sensação física de cansaço mental.

The great melancholies, the sadnesses filled with tedium, can exist only in an atmosphere of comfort and sober luxury.

I am tired of myself in every way. All things, deep down to the secret of their roots, are stained by the color of my weariness. —Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet . (Penguin Classics, 2002)

I'm sad, but not with a definite sadness, nor even with an indefinite sadness. I'm sad down there, on the street littered with packing crates.

There is something of my own disquiet in the steady drip and patter by which the day vainly empties out its sadness upon the earth.

Everything that gave her pleasure was small and depressed him.

E allora sarabande senza fine si srotolavano nella sua mente: come una baiadera ondeggiava di sogno in sogno , di malinconia in malinconia

el aburrimiento, araña silenciosa, tejía su tela en la sombra de todos los rincones de su corazón

My favorite color is black.

'Mouna Ragam' is my all-time favourite, and it will always be.

Lincoln prevailed: wearing his green shawl in the White House and gripped with melancholy, his feet constantly cold, he preserved a nation that had begun to unravel, often holding it together with nothing more than the flat of his hand and his unfaltering sense of human worth.

In applying this subject to the melancholy event, which has deprived this Diocese of its venerable Bishop, we presume not to compare him with the blessed Apostle, of whom we have been speaking.

A people whose souls are so little tuned to joy.

My favorite songs to sing have always been songs about regret. I don't know why that is, but to me, that's country music.