Quotes About Melancholy

Melancholy men, of all others, are the most witty.

Why is it that all those who have become eminent in philosophy or politics or poetry or the arts are clearly melancholics?

Again, men of the melancholic temperament constantly need some remedial process (because the body, from its temperament, is constantly being worried), and they are in a chronic state of violent desire. But Pleasure drives out Pain; not only such Pleasure as is directly contrary to Pain but even any Pleasure provided it be strong: and this is how men come to be utterly destitute of Self-Mastery, i.e. low and bad.

Alles wat je loslaat, alles wat van je wordt afgenomen maakt - doordat je het loslaat, doordat het van je wordt afgenomen - ruimte voor iets nieuws, misschien zelfs iets beters. De melancholie berust dikwijls op een verheerlijking van het verleden die dat verleden helemaal niet verdient. Alleen omdat we het verleden betrekkelijk goed kennen, omdat het ons zo vertrouwd voorkomt, denken we dat we daar thuishoren.

There is nothing more to be said or to be done tonight, so hand me over my violin and let us try to forget for half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable ways of our fellowmen.

To his eyes all seemed beautiful, but to me a tinge of melancholy lay upon the countryside, which bore so clearly the mark of the waning year, Yellow leaves carpeted the lanes and fluttered down upon us as we passed, The rattle of our wheels died away as we drove through drifts of rotting vegetation--sad gifts, as it seemed to me, for Nature to throw before the carriage of the returning heir of the Baskervilles.

Over the green squares of the fields and the low curves of a wood there rose in the distance a grey, melancholy hill, with a strange jagged summit, dim and vague in the distance like some fantastic landscape in a dream. Baskerville sat for a long time, his gaze fixed upon it, and I read upon his eager face how much it meant to him, this first sight of that strange spot where the men of his blood had held sway so long and left their mark so deep.

Look here, Watson; you look regularly done. Lie down there on the sofa, and see if I can put you to sleep." He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air,—his own, no doubt, for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face, and the rise and fall of his bow.

If it makes you happy, then why are you so sad?

But she was looking into the past, trying to understand when it was that all the laughter died.

Is this the madness at the heart of it? Do I believe that if I am good to him, if I act selflessly and make sacrifices for him, do I believe that if I love Apollo - beautiful, aging, melancholy Apollo - I will wake one morning to find him gone and you in his place, back from the land of the dead?

Don't you have some songs, boyo?" she asked, after one of her songs. I didn't know any of them all the way through, but I sang the verses and choruses of all the songs we used to sing back on the Preserve: "Angel from Montgomery," "No Hard Feelings," "You Got Gold," "The Story.

El espantoso descenso al fondo de la tristeza. Por lo mismo que uno está triste, no tiene más ganas de hacer nada alegre. Ya nunca pongo un disco cuando me levanto.Ya nunca escucho música, no voy más al cine, no me compro nada que me guste.

This is Electra. Brilliant no more.

In my great melancholy, I loved life, for I love my melancholy.

Tenía una confidente íntima -mi melancolía-, y en medio de mi alegría, en medio de mi trabajo, ella me atrae, me llama a un lado aunque físicamente yo permanezca en el lugar. Es la más fiel amante que haya conocido.... Søren Kierkegaard's Journals and Papers

The beauty of sorrow is superior to the beauty of life.

The clown knows that life is cruel. The ancient jester's motley coloured costume turned his usually melancholy expression in to a joke. The clown is used to loss. Loss is his prologue.

Life is a sorrow, without a song.

For how long would I be trapped in the condition of melancholy without going insane?

as i sit here looking at the window, i feel broken and empty.

Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy,And moon-struck madness.

Hence, loathed Melancholy,Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born,In Stygian cave forlorn,'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy.

Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,Most musical, most melancholy!