Quotes About Despair

Léon était las d'aimer sans résultat ; puis il commençait à sentir cet accablement que vous cause la répétition de la même vie, lorsque aucun intérêt ne la dirige et qu'aucune espérance ne la soutient.

One need not possess joys in order to taste their bitterness! Even to view them from afar off begets loathing of them. Thou must be fatigued by the monotony of the same actions, the length of the days, the hideousness of the world, the stupidity of the sun?

Aquela putain , Emma Bovary, tem a vida eterna e eu morro como um cão.

The most glorious moments in your life are not the so-called days of success, but rather those days when out of dejection and despair you feel arise in you a challenge to life, and the promise of future accomplishments.

Léon was weary of loving without any outcome; and he began to feel that extreme depression which the repetition of the same way of living induces in you, when no interests shape it and no hope sustains it. He was so bored of Yonville and of the Yonvillais, that the sight of certain people, of certain houses, irritated him beyond endurance; and the pharmacist, easy fellow though he was, had become completely insufferable to him.

But her own life was as cold as an attic with a north-facing window, and boredom, that silent spider, was spinning its web in the darkness in every corner of

Mais elle, sa vie était froide comme un grenier dont la lucarne est au nord, et l'ennui, araignée silencieuse, filait sa toile dans l'ombre à tous les coins de son cÅ"ur.

Se veía deshonrado, arruinado, perdido! Y su imaginación, asaltada por una multitud de hipótesis, se agitaba en medio de ellas como un tonel vacío arrastrado al mar y que flota sobre las olas.

toute l'amertume de l'existence, lui semblait servie sur son assiette, et, à la fumée du bouilli, il montait du fond de son âme comme d'autres bouffées d'affadissement.

Mais c'était surtout aux heures des repas qu'elle n'en pouvait plus, dans cette petite salle au rez-de-chaussée, avec le poêle qui fumait, la porte qui criait, les murs qui suintaient, les pavés humides; toute l'amertume, de l'existence lui semblait servie sur son assiette, et, à la fumée du bouilli, il montait du fond de son âme comme d'autres bouffées d'affadissement.

Elle se sentait noyée dans le mépris de ces gredins honnêtes qui l'avaient sacrifiée d'abord, rejetée ensuite, comme une chose malpropre et inutile.

She stayed there, in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, on a chair, without a fire, without a thought.

But I no longer had a taste for anything, a wish for anything, a love for anybody, a desire for anything whatever, any ambition, or any hope.

Horrible, this love to which he was now chained, a love without purpose and without aim, without joy and without triumph, a love that sickened, weakened, laid waste to everything, a love without sweetness and without intoxication, breeding nothing but regret and foreboding, tears and pain, hinting at the ecstasy of shared caresses only by some intolerable longing for kisses not to be wakened on cold lips, sterile and dry as dead leaves.

It reveals none of those great catastrophes which we always expect to find behind these acts of despair; but it shows us the slow succession of the little vexations of life, the disintegration of a lonely existence, whose dreams have disappeared; it gives the reason for these tragic ends, which only nervous and highstrung people can understand.

C'était un de ces jours froids et tristes où les cÅ"urs se serrent, où les esprits s'irritent, où l'âme est sombre, où la main ne s'ouvre ni pour donner ni pour secourir.

Les habitants, dans leurs chambres assombries, avaient l'affolement que donnent les cataclysmes, les grands bouleversements meurtriers de la terre, contre lesquels toute sagesse et toute force sont inutiles.

Hát minden csak nyomorúság, bánat, szerencsétlenség és halál? Mindenki csal, hazudik, szenvedést és könnyeket hoz? Hol találhatunk valamelyes nyugalmat és örömet? Bizonyára egy másik létben. Amikor a lélek megszabadul a földi megpróbáltatásoktól.

A la moitié du chemin de la vraie vie, nous étions environnés d'une sombre mélancolie, qu'ont exprimée tant de mots railleurs et tristes, dans le café de la jeunesse perdue.

That Crawford Tilinghast should ever have studied science and philosophy was a mistake. These things should be left to the frigid and impersonal investigator for they offer two equally tragic alternatives to the man of feeling and action; despair, if he fail in his quest, and terrors unutterable and unimaginable if he succeed.

I am so beastly tired of mankind and the world that nothing can interest me unless it contains a couple of murders on each page or deals with the horrors unnameable and unaccountable that leer down from the external universes.

I have looked upon all the universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me.

No death, no doom, no anguish can arouse the surpassing despair which flows from a loss of identity. - Through the Gates of the Silver Key

Sometimes one feels that it would be merciful to tear down these houses, for they must often dream.