Quotes About Despair

The radio station was playing Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake , a sure sign that things were much worse than they appeared.

He looked up in despair at the starry sky, he struck his burning chest with his fist; he loved and he was not loved!

Alas, madame, Raoul humbly replied, unable to restrain his tears, alas, I believe that Christine really does love him!...But it is not only that which drives me to despair; for what I am not certain of, madame, is that the man whom Christine loves is worthy of her love! It is for me to be the judge of that, monsieur! said Christine, looking Raoul angrily in the face.

Se es desgraciado cuando se ama? - Sí, Christine. Cuando se ama y no se sabe si se es correspondido.

Love is just a four letter word! (laughter) Because that's what it is for me! I don't know what it means... I mean, love didn't work, whatever the hell that is, in my life. Alone I am. I'm not particularly into self-love either. I'm quite prepared to die. And all the objects of my love slowly trail off.

T]here may be no more depressing place on the planet than the floor of a casino.

Oh, cruel abandonment! My bones turn to dust beneath the gaze of your ever-mocking smile!

So, in God's relationship to us, we might wonder, "Am I really saved?" "Am I of the elect?" "Is God angry with me?" "Why does God allow suffering in the world?" In each case, if we leave out the Cross, questions like these can drive us to despair or insanity.

I have a bird. Inside." She patted the flat stomach below her small breasts, and for a moment Nicholas thought she had really found food. "She sits in here. She has tangled a nest in my entrails, where she sits and tears at my breath with her beak. I look healthy to you, don't I? But inside I'm hollow and rotten and turning brown, dirt and old feathers, oozing away. Her beak will break through soon.

Most of all, he loved Celia Johnson, her hats,her face,her cracked porcelain voice: 'This can't last. This misery can't last.Nothing lasts really,neither happiness nor despair.Not even life lasts long....There'll come a time in the future when i shan't mind about this any more....

It is a simple choice: work or succumb to melancholia, depression and despair. Like it or not you have to try to do something with your life, you have to keep plugging away. Besides, the alternatives to giving in and giving up are never as simple as they seem.

What have you learned Dorothy? he asked her. Dorothy thought for a moment and said, I learned to be disappointed and not to hope too much. I learned how to be beaten and how to beat others. I learned that I am worthless and the world is worthless, and that love is a lie and if it's not a lie, then it's wasted. They learned you wrong, he said.

Alas the day that gave me birth! Worse than my prison is the endless earth, now I am doomed eternally to dwell, not in purgatory, but in hell

Look around! Everything's rigid, hard, dark, what lies beneath it all? Something we don't understand. God's gone. Everything's gone.

In an ugly and unhappy world the richest man can purchase nothing but ugliness and unhappiness.

He who has never hoped can never despair

Music is the brandy of the damned.

He who has never hoped can never despair. Caesar, in good or bad fortune, looks his fate in the face.

Poverty doesn't bring unhappiness; it brings degradation.

I had a terror of the world. None knew me; all would mistake me. I had seen so many in my life who made themselves glad with scorning, and laughed at another's shame. What could I do? This life seemed to be closing in upon me with a wall of fire—everywhere there was scorching that made me shrink. The high sunlight made me shrink. And I began to think that my despair was the voice of God telling me to die.

There is no hour that has not its births of gladness and despair, no morning brightness that does not bring new sickness to desolation as well as new forces to genius and love. There are so many of us, and our lots are so different, what wonder that Nature's mood is often in harsh contrast with the great crisis of our lives?

Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care But for another gives its ease And builds a heaven in hell's despair Love seeketh only self to please, To bind another to its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a hell in heaven's despite." —W. Blake: Songs of Experience

Like one who has lost his way and is weary, she sat and saw as in one glance all the paths of her young hope which she should never find again.

Left groping in darkness, with his prop utterly gone, Silas had inevitably a sense, though a dull and half-despairing one, that if any help came to him it must come from without; and there was a slight stirring of expectation at the sight of his fellow-men, a faint consciousness of dependence on their goodwill.