Quotes About Despair

We can regard our life as a uselessly disturbing episode in the blissful repose of nothingness.

For the world is Hell, and men are on the one hand the tormented souls and on the other the devils in it.

The two enemies of human happiness are pain and boredom.

Today it is bad, and day by day it will get worse?until at last the worst of all arrives.

He who has lost all hope has also lost all fear;

Boredom is certainly not an evil to be taken lightly: it will ultimately etch lines of true despair onto a face. It makes beings with as little love for each other as humans nonetheless seek each other with such intensity, and in this way becomes the source of sociability.

Of how many a man may it not be said that hope made a fool of him until he danced into the arms of death!

He who is without hope is also without fear. - On Psychology

It will generally be found that as soon the terrors of live reach the point where they outweigh the terrors of death, a man will put an end to his life.

El mundo es el infierno, y los hombres se dividen en almas atormentadas y diablos atormentadores.

The truth is that we ought to be wretched, and are so.

The life of a fool is worse than death[1].

Em qualquer parte do mundo, não há muito a buscar: a miséria e a dor preenchem-no, e aqueles que lhes escaparam são espreitados em todos os cantos pelo tédio. Além do mais, via de regra, impera no mundo a malvadez, e a insensatez fala mais alto. O destino é cruel e os homens são deploráveis.

It is this which makes suicide easier: for the physical pain associated with it loses all significance in the eyes of one afflicted by excessive spiritual suffering.

sinir sisteminin ya da sindirim ayg?tlar?n?n hastal?kl? bir heyecan?, doÄŸuÅŸtan dyskolos'un ekmeÄŸine yaÄŸ sürerse; o zaman bu kiÅŸi, sürekli hoÅŸnutsuzluÄŸun doÄŸurduÄŸu, yaÅŸamdan b?kk?nl??a ve bunun sonucunda da intihar eÄŸiliminin ortaya ç?kt??? üst dereceye ulaÅŸabilir.

We should always be mindful of the fact that no man is ever very far from the state in which he would readily want to seize a sword or poison in order to bring his existence to an end.

The world is just a hell and in it human beings are the tortured souls on the one hand, and the devils on the other

Her grief grieved her. His devastated her.

The TV channels never ran out of sponsorship for their live telecasts of despair. They never ran out of despair

On bad days the orange walls held hands and bent over him, inspecting him, like malevolent doctors, slowly, deliberately, squeezing the breath out of him and making him scream. Sometimes they receded of their own accord, and the room he lay in grew impossibly large, terrorizing him with the specter of his own insignificance. That too made him cry out.

Are we] far more comfortable with the idea of poor people killing themselves in despair than with the idea of them fighting back?

What Larry McCaslin saw in Rahel's eyes was not despair at all, but a sort of enforced optimism. And a hollow where Estha's words' had been. He couldn't be expected to understand that. That the emptiness in one twin was only a version of the quietness in the other. That the two things fitted together. Like stacked spoons. Like familiar lovers' bodies.

He didn't know that in some places, like the country that Rahel came from, various kinds of despair competed for primacy. And that personal despair could never be desperate enough.

There seems to be no hope. But pretending to be hopeful is the only grace we have . . .