Quotes About Despair

You must not pay too much attention to opinions. The written word is unalterable, and opinions are often only an expression of despair.

Life is merely terrible; I feel it as few others do. Often — and in my inmost self perhaps all the time — I doubt whether I am a human being.

the poisonous world flows into my mouth like water into that of a drowning man

The fact that no one knows where I am is my only happiness. If only I could prolong this forever! It would be far more just than death. I am empty and futile in every corner of my being, even in my unhappiness.

But Gregor understood easily that it was not only consideration for him which prevented their moving, for he could easily have been transported in a suitable crate with a few air holes; what mainly prevented the family from moving was their complete hopelessness and the thought that they had been struck by a misfortune as none of their relatives and acquaintances had ever been hit.

There can be no more beautiful spot to die in, no spot more worthy of total despair, than one's own novel.

What am I doing in this eternal winter?

and in that recurring dream, I found myself trapped in some sort of gigantic game of which I was unfamiliar with the rules; lost in a labyrinthine town of dark and damp, criss-crossing streets, ambiguous characters of uncertain authority having no idea of why I was there nor what I had to do, and where the first sign of the beginning of understanding was the wish to die.

But when I want to draw close to someone, and fully commit myself, then my misery is assured. Then I am nothing, and what can I do with nothingness? I must admit that your letter this morning (by the afternoon it had changed) arrived at just the right moment; I was in need of those very words.

I am so miserable, there are so many questions, I can see no way out and am so wretched and feeble that I could lie forever on the sofa and keep opening and closing my eyes without knowing the difference.

Oh, plenty of hope, an infinite amount of hope--but not for us.

It is as if I were made of stone, as if I were my own tombstone, there is no loophole for doubt or for faith, for love or repugnance, for courage or anxiety, in particular or in general, only a vague hope lives on, but no better than the inscriptions on tombstones.

There are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship.

Es gibt unendlich viel Hoffnung, nur nicht für uns.

One of the first signs of the beginnings of understanding is the wish to die. This life appears unbearable, another unattainable. One is no longer ashamed of wanting to die; one asks to be moved from the old cell, which one hates, to a new one, which one will only in time come to hate.

I felt so weak and unhappy that I buried my face in the ground: I could not bear the strain of seeing around me the things of the earth. I felt convinced that every movement and every thought was forced, and that one had to be on one's guard against them.

After tormenting myself for a long time, I am stopping. I am unable and in the near future will scarcely be able to complete the remaining pieces.

He looked sadly down at the street, as though it were his own bottomless sadness.

Wherever I turn, the black wave rushes down on me.

my joints ache with fatigue, my dried up body trembles toward its own destruction in turmoils of which I dare not become fully conscious, in my head are astonishing convulsions.

Today one may pluck out one's very heart and not find it.

I did not fall heavily, nor did I feel any pain, but I felt so weak and unhappy that I buried my face in the ground: I could not bear the strain of seeing around me the things of the earth. I felt convinced that every movement and every thought was forced, and that one had to be one's guard against them. Yet nothing seemed more natural than to lie here on the grass, my arms beside my body, my face hidden.

This afternoon I couldn't get out of bed, not because I was too tired but because I was too heavy - again and again that word, it's the only one that fits me, do you understand this at all? It's something like the "heaviness" of a ship which has lost its rudder and which says to the waves: I'm too heavy for myself and for you too light.

Without any way out, not even toward the depth.