Quotes About Melancholy

Che cos'ha mai di così seducente questa luna, vecchio astro defunto, che porta a spasso nel cielo, la sua faccia giallina e la sua triste luce di trapassata per turbare così noialtri, noi che siamo infiammati da erranti fantasie?

Le soleil, plus bas, semblait saigner.

A la moitié du chemin de la vraie vie, nous étions environnés d'une sombre mélancolie, qu'ont exprimée tant de mots railleurs et tristes, dans le café de la jeunesse perdue.

Nel mezzo del cammin della vera vita, eravamo circondati da una malinconia oscura, che tante parole tristi e beffarde hanno espresso, nel caffè della gioventù perduta.

At the halfway point of the journey making up real life, we were surrounded by a gloomy melancholy, one expressed by so many derisive and sorrowful words in the café of lost youth.

There was that touch of melancholy in his fastidious appearance that suggested the atmosphere of frustrated dreams.

It was perhaps an effect of such surroundings that my mind early acquired a shade of melancholy.

I stayed locked inside a windowless environment, sickened by the lack of sunshine like some dour owl.

Actually, 'Phir Na Mile Kabhi' is a very emotional and a heartbreak song and somewhere it does touch the heart of the listeners as it touched my heart as well.

Since childhood I've always had a tendency to lean towards melancholy. My sisters suffer from it too, so maybe it's a genetic thing. But none of us has ever been on medication.

Tears fall in my heart like the rain on the town.

There's a melancholy sense of things lost in the shabbier British seaside towns; of comfortable failure and better times long gone.

There's a lot of melancholy in my tracks.

As a child I made a pact with my mother. I agreed that we were doomed, that she and I abided together in a cocoon of melancholy.

Colourful autumn is a tristful travel to the pale Planet of Melancholy!

Ah! the year is slowly dying, And the wind in tree-top sighing, Chant his requiem. Thick and fast the leaves are falling, High in air wild birds are calling, Nature's solemn hymn.

and the sad notes floated out to the patio and hung in the trees like birds too tired to fly

Overwhelmed with sensation, Corliss closed her eyes. She felt the soft flax of his hair between her fingers, felt the heat of his breath through the thin silk covering her breast. Her melancholy, so bleak and suffocating, had evaporated almost completely, like nighttime fog burned off by the hot morning sun.

For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the same lassitude, and a languor weighted upon me all day. I felt myself a changed girl. A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome, possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet.

As she left, he began playing something as soft and haunting as the last roses of summer. She recognized it in two bars: Liebesträume. He and Mrs. Rowland had played it together that first night of their acquaintance. Even Gigi, incompetent musician that she was, could pick out that melody on the piano with one hand. Dream of Love. All that she ever had with him.

He thought about himself and to the young that always brings sadness.

The melancholy comes over me, the dismal misery of not knowing where I am, or perhaps losing any sense of who I am, as if the mist is bringing about an evaporation of identity, all the certainties of the self leaching away into the cloud.

I'd never seen so many Goths in one place. All dark clothes and brooding faces, like a gathering of small thunderclouds.

Don't you dare try to out-gloom me. I'm the only one here entitled to indulge in deep dark existential brooding.