Quotes About Melancholy

I'd had too many drinks. Time ran invisible, fluid, sad.

Nature is not always tricked in holiday attire, but the same scene which yesterday breathed perfume and glittered as for the frolic of the nymphs, is overspread with melancholy today. Nature always wears the colors of the spirit.

nature is not always tricked in holiday attire, but the same scene which yesterday breathed perfume and glittered as for the frolic of the nymphs, is overspread with melancholy today. Nature always wears the colors of the spirit. To a man laboring under calamity, the heat of his own fire hath sadness in it.

He had never liked October. Ever since he had first lay in the autumn leaves before his grandmother's house many years ago and heard the wind and saw the empty trees. It had made him cry, without a reason. And a little of that sadness returned each year to him. It always went away with spring. But, it was a little different tonight. There was a feeling of autumn coming to last a million years. There would be no spring. (The October Game)

The zipper displaces the button and a man lacks just that much time to think while dressing at dawn, a philosophical hour, and thus a melancholy hour.

It was September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason.

He felt his smile slide away, melt, fold over and down on itself like a tallow skin, like the stuff of a fantastic candle burning too long and now collapsing and now blown out.

Me? I'm the original sad man. I read a book and it makes me sad. See a film: sad. Plays? they really work me over.

He felt his smile slide away, melt, fold over and down on itself like a tallow skin, like the stuff of a fantastic candle burning too long and now collapsing and now blown out. Darkness. He was not happy. He was not happy. He said the words to himself. He recognized this as the true state of affairs. He wore his happiness like a mask and the girl had run off across the lawn with the mask and there was no way of going to knock on her door and ask for it back.

The voice clock mourned out the cold hour of a cold morning of a still colder year.

Fire is bright and fire is clean. That way lies melancholy. Don't let the torrent of melancholy and drear philosophy drown our world.

Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Ray Bradbury Fahrenheit 451

They turned on themselves, like a feverish wheel, all tumbling spokes. Margot stood alone. She was a very frail girl who looked as if she had been lost in the rain for years and the rain had washed out the blue from her eyes and the red from her mouth and the yellow from her hair. She was an old photograph dusted from an album, whitened away, and if she spoke at all her voice would be a ghost. Now she stood, separate, staring at the rain and the loud wet world beyond the huge glass.

Patent-zatvara? zamenio je dugmad i time je ?oveku oduzeto taman ono malo vremena za razmišljanje dok se u obla?i u zoru, u filozofsko doba dana, i stoga melanholino doba dana.

El cierre de cremallera desplaza al botón y el hombre ya no dispone de todo ese tiempo para pensar mientras se viste, una hora filosófica y, por tanto, una hora de melancolía.

How strange the popsicle, the vanilla night, the night of close-packed ice cream, of mosquito-lotioned wrists, the night of running children suddenly veered from their games and put away behind glass, behind wood, the popsicles in melting puddles of lime and strawberry where they fell when the children were scooped indoors.

Why are you crying? he asked. I don't know, I don't know, but I can't help it. I'm sad and I don't know why, I cry and I don't know why, but I'm crying.

The zipper displaces the button, and a man lacks just that much time to think while dressing at dawn, a philosophical hour, and this a melancholy hour.

cram them full of [b]non-combustible[/b] data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. [br] then they'll [b]feel they're thinking[/b], they'll get a [i]sense[/i] of motion without moving. [...] [br] don't give them any [b]slippery[/b] stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. that way lies [b]melancholy[/b].

cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. then they'll feel they're thinking , they'll get a sense of motion without moving. [...] don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. that way lies melancholy .

Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.

No les des ninguna materia delicada como filosofía o sociología para que empiecen a atar cabos. Por ese camino se llega a la melancolía.

And the men with the cigarettes in their straight-lined mouths, the men with the eyes of puff-adders, took up their load of machine and tube, their case of liquid melancholy and the slow dark sludge of nameless stuff, and strolled out the door.

Ne laissons pas le torrent de la mélancolie et de la philosophie débilitante noyer notre monde.