Quotes About Despair

In despair, she gave up on coercion and tried to manipulate him psychologically. When he behaved badly, she turned her back to him and began walking out of the room. The threat of abandonment made him panic. He stopped whatever he was doing and ran after Stephanie for a hug and reassurance. Nim learned to sign "sorry," and did so often.

She looked as though everything that she didn't like had happened to her.

It is the dark, the dark that draws me backInto a chaos whereVocations, visions fail, the will grows slackAnd I am stunned by silence everywhere.

How long can a man live on the outside before he loses his ability to love? How long before there's no more hope?

Art is despair with dignity.

Art is despait with dignity.

The bed of a tortured soul is always in shambles by morning.

I've been as good as dead since the day I was born. I accepted that a very long time ago.

Silence will put us in touch with yearnings, anxieties, pain, despair, envy, competition, and a host of other feelings that need to be put into words if we are to move toward a place of centeredness and come into possession of our lives. The fact is that most of us have an incredible amount of unfaced suffering in our histories that has to be looked at and worked through.

We surrendered rather easily to yet another romantic notion: that meaning is to be found only in misery

The truth is, I feel beyond sad. I feel empty. Numb.

I deserved the shaking and the headaches and the fact that every single time I took a breath I felt a squeezing in my chest, my heart beating even though I wished it wasn't.

Hope was supposed to be a good thing, but it was starting to feel like every other four-letter word you're not supposed to say.

I want to care, but I don't. I look at you and all I feel is tired. I walk through school and all I want to do is leave. I wake up in the morning and don't know why I'm here. I feel like I'm not real.

I think you're the saddest person I've ever met. It's like you're drowning in it.

I am the living dead girl because I am too weak to die.

Like a heart, and I wish mine wasn't beating.

I want to care, but I don't. I look at you and all I feel is tired. I walk through school and all I want to do is leave. I wake up in the morning and don't know why I'm here. I feel like I'm not real. I feel like I died when everyone else on the plane did and I'm the only one who's noticed.

I heard how people sounded when their dreams were shattered, when their lives were turned into a waking nightmare.

She has no idea who I am, not really. She's just someone who's noticed me because the video and she'll forget what she's said before the day is over. Me? Not so much, but I go on, my legs shaking and a mix of anger and despair burning inside me.

Ray makes me shower once a week and I hate coming out of the bathroom. I hate knowing he's waiting for me, that he will rub his hands and himself all over me and whisper things. His hands used to make me cry, but now I'm used to them. The thing is, you can get used to anything. You think you can't, you want to die, but you don't. You won't. You just are.

I don't understand why my shell keeps living. Breathing. Why won't it listen to me, to the little part I have that isn't Ray, to that tiny once upon a time girl who just wants to close her eyes and never wake up again? 623 Daisy Lane. Helen and Glenn. That's why. Once upon a time, I belonged to them and they shouldn't suffer for that.

For who plans suicide sitting in the sun?

I feel helpless, hopeless, too low to call out, too weak to think. Impotent tears dribble down.