Quotes About Despair

Sometimes the answer is at the bottom of a bottle.

It had gotten to the point where it seemed like nothing matters, because I'm not a real person and neither is anyone else. I would have done anything to feel real again.

I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.

IT WAS MISERABLE, wet-bone March and I was lying in bed thinking about killing myself, a hobby of mine.

I guess I've been depressed for about twenty-four years.

I don't feel like a person at all: I am something to be loaded and unloaded, like a sofa or a cuckoo clock. I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.

Pero no lo dije en voz alta; a menudo no digo las cosas en voz alta, ni siquiera cuando debería. Contengo y compartimiento hasta un extremo preocupante: en el sótano de mi vientre hay cientos de botellas llenas de ira, desespero, temor, pero uno nunca lo adivinaría al verme.

It was miserable, wet-bone March and I was lying in bed thinking about killing myself, a hobby of mine. Indulgent afternoon daydreaming: A shotgun, my mouth, a bang and my head jerking once, twice, blood on the wall. Splatter, splatter.

I know I'm a hateful creature.

Para empezar: nunca debería haber nacido.

It had gotten to the point where it seemed like nothing matters, because I'm not a real person and neither is anyone else. I would have done anything to feel real again.

I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.

In my belly-basement are hundreds of bottles of rage, despair, fear, but you'd never guess from looking at me.

I assumed everything bad in the world could happen, because everything bad in the world already did happen

The people come from everywhere, from five hundred miles, to find their fortunes. By fortune is an ugly, two-faced goddess. When you have lived with her handiwork for half a generation, you hardly notice anymore. You forget that this is not the way life has to be. You cease to marvel at just how much evil man con conjure by existing.

Potem nadciÄ…gn??a nadciÄ…gn??a m?awka, która szczelnie zasun??a zasÅ'ony Å›wiata. BrÄ…zowe i szare postacie garbiÅ'y siÄ™ zniechÄ™cone wzdÅ'u? brudnej, bÅ'otnistej ulicy. DzieÅ" byÅ' jak wyrwany w peÅ'ni dorosÅ'y z macicy rozpaczy.

I stomp away from him. I refuse to spend my time with anybody who doesn't think this is the end of the world. If I have to listen to a guy putting a positive spin on this, my head is probably going to explode. At this moment, I want nothing but gloom, despair, negativity, and complaining.

Jonah shook his head, clucking in false sympathy. "Told you guys — no way out." They

Despair is the price one pays for setting oneself an impossible aim. It is, one is told, the unforgivable sin, but it is a sin the corrupt or evil man never practices. He always has hope. He never reaches the freezing-point of knowing absolute failure. Only the man of goodwill carries always in his heart this capacity for damnation.

Hope was an instinct only the reasoning human mind could kill. An animal never knew despair.

There was a tacit understanding between them that 'liquor helped'; growing more miserable with every glass one hoped for the moment of relief.

O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I'm too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone for ever.

What makes a man, without hope, cling to a few more minutes of existence?

All right. All right.' He thought: am I taking to drink too? It seemed to him that he had no shape left, nothing you could touch and say: this is Scobie.