Quotes About Despair

My heart lurched and cleanly broke.

You can always, and easily, give somebody the gift of hope and faith, even in the midst of despair.

Look at us. One bleeding body, one corpse, and a husk who's been half dead for years. No one who took an objective look at this room could think it was anything but too late, Ruth. For all of us.

For the wretched one night is like a thousand for someone faring well death is just one more night.

When a man has lost all happiness, he's not alive. Call him a breathing corpse.

Loneliness is the standard that separates life from death.

There are not wings of dreams that have not previously dealt with the flight of black thoughts.

What clouds may wet the gaze without hope of emptiness within us?

Don't hope you will receive help from the words of life because they all bring you to death.

No tiredness can destroy hope like death can, as the absolute fatigue of life.

On se débattait parce qu'on espérait s'en sortir, c'était utilitaire, c'était ignoble. Tandis que la tragédie, c'était gratuit. C'était sans espoir.

Sometimes laying in my bed, I would think that I should have died because I deserved to.

The problems of today's youth were no longer a Sunday supplement, or a news broadcast, or anything so remote and intangible. They were suddenly become a dirty, shivering boy, who told us that in this world we had built for him with our sweat and our blood, he was not only tired of living, but so unscared of dying that he did it daily, sometimes for recreation.

Life is a long agonised illness only curable by death

All doubt, despair, and fear become insignificant once the intention of life becomes love, rather than dependence on love.

Good God! what takes place in man, that he should more rejoice at the salvation of a soul despaired of, and freed from greater peril, than if there had always been hope of him, or the danger had been less?

No man should put an end to this life to obtain that better life we look for after death, for those who die by their own hand have no better life after death.

The flesh is sad, alas, and I have read all the books.

The flesh, alas, is sad, and I have read all the books.

I had no hope. Yet expectation lived on in me, the last thing she had left behind. What further consummations, mockeries, torments did I still anticipate? I had no idea as I abided in the unshaken belief that the time of cruel wonders was not yet over.

Sam Pickett, English teacher and former basketball coach at Willow Creek High School, scrounged for sleep in his tangled bed. He was thirty-six years old and he hadn't a clue as to who he was or what his life was about. He bore a wound he couldn't heal. He

Her head and heart had been empty for so long, the world drained of meaning. Her favorite dishes tasted like ash, paintings that had once taken her breath away, were hollow scrolls. Music that had once lifted her soul, jangled like a distant cacophony

There's an inherent limit to the stress that any material can bear. Water has its boiling point, metals their melting points. The elements of the spirit behave the same way. Happiness can reach a pitch so great that any further happiness can't be felt. Pain, despair, humiliation, disgust, and fear are no different. Once the vessel is full, the world can't add to it.

My child died last night—and now I shall be alone again, if I must really go on living. They will come tomorrow, strange, hulking, black-clad men bringing a coffin, and they will put him in it, my poor boy, my only child.