Quotes About Despair

I have to write, as if I were carrying out a punishment. And the greatest punishment is to know that whatever I write will be futile, flawed and uncertain.

In every case, the nobler the genius, the less noble the fate. A small genius gets fame, a great genius gets obloquy, a greater genius gets despair; a god gets crucifixion.

Nunca he encarado el suicidio como una solución, porque odio la vida por amor a ella.

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.

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

Oggi la mia anima è triste fino al corpo. Tutto me stesso mi duole: la memoria, gli occhi, le braccia.

My life: a tragedy booed off the stage by the gods after only the first act.

Hep savunma hatt?nday?m. Hayat?n ve baÅŸkalar?n?n ac?s?n? çektiriyorum kendime. Gerçeklikle yüzleÅŸebilmekten âcizim. GüneÅŸ bile, salt varl???yla eziyor, hüzne boÄŸuyor beni. Sadece gece vakti –geceleyin, kendimle baÅŸ baÅŸayken–, her ÅŸeyden uzak, her ÅŸeyi unutan, ne gerçeklikle ne de bir ÅŸeylerin yarar?yla ilgisi olmayan, yitik gecede kendime kavuÅŸuyor, biraz teselli buluyorum.

Ah! the anguish, the vile rage, the despair Of not being able to express With a shout, an extreme and bitter shout, The bleeding of my heart!

We are hollow inside and out, pariahs of anticipation and promise.

Desceu sobre nós a mais profunda e a mais mortal das secas dos séculos - a do conhecimento íntimo da vacuidade de todos os esforços e da vaidade de todos os propósitos.

If there's no earth in heaven, then let's not bother with heaven. Far better for everything to turn out to be nothing and for this plotless novel to end there.

The tragic futility of life.

and everything is an incurable sickness. The indolence of feeling, the frustration of never knowing how to do anything, the inability to take action...

Bastaba con mirarle la cara, agónica y miope, para comprender que a partir del primer día de la creación todo habían sido ya disgustos para él.

To create souls in men, to create fine happiness and fine despair she must remain deeply proud - proud to be inviolate, proud also to be melting, to be passionate and possessed.

The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience.

People without hope not only don't write novels, but what is more to the point, they don't read them. They don't take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage. The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience.

At its best our age is an age of searchers and discoverers, and at its worst, an age that has domesticated despair and learned to live with it happily.

He had never thought himself a great sinner before but he saw now that his true depravity had been hidden from him lest it cause him despair. He realized that he was forgiven for sins from the beginning of time, when he had conceived in his own heart the sin of Adam, until the present, when he had denied poor Nelson. He saw that no sin was too monstrous for him to claim as his own, and since God loved in proportion as He forgave, he felt ready at that instant to enter Paradise.

Nothing is like it used to be, lady," he said. "The world is almost rotten.

The lights drifted farther away the faster he ran and his feet moved numbly as if they carried him nowhere. The tide of darkness seemed to sweep him back to her, postponing from moment to moment his entry into the world of guilt and sorr.

Writing this, he had reached the pit of despair and he thought that reading it, she would at least begin to sense his tragedy and her part in it. It was not that she had ever forced her way on him. That had never been necessary. Her way had simply been the air he breathed and when at last he had found other air, he couldn't survive in it. He felt that even if she didn't understand at once, the letter would leave her with an enduring chill and perhaps in time lead her to see herself as she was.

Julian thought he could have stood his lot better if she had been selfish, if she had been an old hag who drank and screamed at him. He walked along, saturated in depression, as if in the midst of his martyrdom he had lost his faith.