Quotes About Despair

Jack sank further and further into himself like he was made of tinfoil, easily crushed. Despite

God doesn't promise to keep the storm away, but He says He'll be with me through it. My faith won't protect me from the loss, but it will carry me and keep me from despair.~page 195

If I had learned anything from this past year, it is that despair is love's fiercest enemy.

Despair is love's fiercest enemy.

Hope is a terrible thing, she said. Is it? Yes, it keep you living in another place, a place which doesn't exist. For some people it's better than where they are. For many it's a relief. From life, she said. A relief from life? Is that living? Some people don't have a choice. No and that's awful for them. Hope is better than misery, he said. Or despair. Hope belongs in the same box as despair. Hope is not so bad, he said. At least despair has truth to it.

I realized that in depression, nothing matters," she said. "And in sadness, everything matters.

THE NEXT TIME you notice that despair is driving you and you don't know how to believe in happiness anymore, slow down. Pick up a pen and a piece of paper and write down the wish that is at the center of your desperation: "I

hope had become despair, protestors had become terrorists, love had become sex, music had become noise, and us had become me.

The pain of depression and despair can build enough heat to melt the lead walls surrounding you. The darkness of charcoal, under pressure, can turn into a diamond. We need to realize blessings come in strange shapes and sizes, and if we are willing to learn from our pain, then suicide is not on the list of options.

I had never felt so lonely and so sad in my entire life.

Depression is melancholy minus its charms.

Some things can be fixed. Some things are just too broken.

When he awoke it was dawn. Or something like dawn. The light was watery, dim and incomparably sad. Vast, grey, gloomy hills rose up all around them and in between the hills there was a wide expanse of black bog. Stephen had never seen a landscape so calculated to reduce the onlooker to utter despair in an instant. "This is one of your kingdoms, I suppose, sir?" he said. "My kingdoms?" exclaimed the gentleman in surprize. "Oh, no! This is Scotland!

Actually, it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part that wanted to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehearsal for tragedy.

Emptiness and boredom: what an understatement. What I felt was complete desolation. Desolation, despair, and depression. Isn't there some other way to look at this? After all, angst of these dimensions is a luxury item. You need to be well fed, clothes, and housed to have time for this much self-pity.

I know what it's like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. How you try to fit in but you can't. How you hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside.

I was thinking about that, my heart suddenly full of despair.

life on Earth now. I don't always feel like being a beginner in a foreign language, continuously and mercilessly exposed to that special terror and despair, the deep inadequacy, that the unfamiliar syntax can engender.

I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking.

In that one slight motion, I see the end of hope, beginning of destruction of everything I hold dear in the world. I can't guess what form my punishment will take, how wide the net will be cast, but when it is finished there most likely be nothing left. So you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair.

Still, I hate them. But, of course, I hate almost everybody now. Myself more than anyone.

They can pump whatever they want into my arm but it takes more than that to keep a person going once she's lost the will to live.

Trapped for days, years, centuries maybe. Dead, but not allowed to die. Alive, but as good as dead. So alone that anyone, anything no matter how loathsome would be welcome.

How do you bear it?" Finnick looks at me in disbelief. "I don't, Katniss! Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking up." Something in my expression stops him. "Better not give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.