Quotes About Melancholy

While they danced they came over them the weariness with the world, the melancholy, the pity one for the other, which is the exultation of love.

By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be mekancholy.

When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.

I love the feeling of nostalgia vying with the present. That can be from song to song, or within the same song.

I'm a crumbled up piece of paper lying here, 'cause I remember it all too well

que todos bailemos al son de la tonada que ella toca. Corazones sangrantes, y secos huesos en los cementerios, y lágrimas que queman al caer..., todos bailan juntos la misma música que ella ejecuta con esa boca sin risa que posee.

Nothing. Nothing makes me happy. I like nothing, I tell her.

I want to go back, Daniel says, quietly, with effort. Where? I ask, unsure. There's a long pause that kind of freaks me out and Daniel finishes his drink and fingers the sunglasses he's still wearing and says, I don't know. Just back.

At the casting sessions it was all boys and though I wasn't exactly bored I didn't need to be there, and songs constantly floating in the car keep commenting on everything neutral encased within the windshield's frame ( … one time you were blowing young ruffians … sung over the digital billboard on Sunset advertising the new Pixar movie) and the fear builds into a muted fury and then has no choice but to melt away into a simple and addictive sadness.

It had been raining for hours, one of those endless fall rains that sucked all the color out of the world and turned your life into a black-and-white movie.

They would also read and be read to – silent reading was regarded as highly suspect, a sign of being antisocial or melancholy, suitable only for scholars.

WHAT IS THAT SENSE INSIDE YOUR HEAD OF WISTFUL REGRET THAT THINGS ARE THE WAY THEY APPARENTLY ARE? "Sadness, master. I think. Now—" I AM SADNESS.

Gin and cheese, she thought as she refilled her drink. All the necessary food groups for a melancholy woman.

John Prine in particular... just the chord changes combined with the words. He definitely can make you cry a little bit. Just a little bit.

I was a sad kid.

I raised the hood of my cape and opened my umbrella. Headmistress had given it to me for my twenty-first birthday, knowing how fond I was of the purple foxglove that bloomed in the park. When open, the underside revealed in each of the panels a spray of painted stems, lush with lavender bells. "No matter how bad the weather, you will always be able to look up and see something that will cheer you," she had said, knowing that my quiet moods often concealed an orphan's melancholy.

Nightfall. "What a strange word. 'Night' I get. But 'fall' is a gentle word. Autumn leaves fall, swirling with languid grace To carpet the earth with their dying blaze. Tears fall, like liquid diamonds Shimmering softly, before they melt away. Night doesn't fall here. It comes slamming down.

These folks seemed to think leeching the world of all color was cool. I decided they all must be deeply depressed.

My older sister has entire kingdoms inside of her, and some of them are only accessible at certain seasons, in certain kinds of weather. One such melting occurs in summer rain, at midnight, during the vine-green breathing time right before sleep. You have to ask the right question, throw the right rope bridge, to get there-and then bolt across the chasm between you, before your bridge collapses.

We live in a dark and romantic and quite tragic world.

There were days when she was unhappy, she did not know why,--when it did not seem worthwhile to be glad or sorry, to be alive or dead; when life appeared to her like a grotesque pandemonium and humanity like worms struggling blindly toward inevitable annihilation.

I am the somber one, the unconsoled widower,The Prince of Aquitaine whose tower was destroyed.My only star is dead, and my star-studded luteWears the black sun of Melancholy.

La mélancolie est une maladie qui consiste à voir les choses comme elles sont.

And then a lady in a window high, Fair-haired, dark-eyed, and dressed in ancient style... Whom, in another life, perhaps I've seen, And whom I now remember with a sigh.