Quotes About Despair

In the spring, tattered and emaciated Jews who had spent the war in the concentration camps to the east had begun to return. Those who had lost family members peered into the faces of these walking skeletons, struggling to find the people they were so sure they'd never see again. Sometimes, there were joyous reunions. Mostly, though, the survivors returned to find that everyone they loved had perished and that their reward for enduring hell was a renewed sense of loss and despair.

it's terrible to see her slipping away. It's like standing on the deck of a boat, watching the waves suck someone under, and knowing that there's no life preserver to throw in.

The sun is gone, but I have a light.

Married, Married, Married! Buried! Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Without reflection, without sorrow, without shame, they've built around me great, high walls. And I sit here now and despair. I think of nothing else: this fate consumes my mind: because I had so many things to do out there.3

Eso es porque Aki se ha ido. Porque la he perdido. Ya no hay nada que desee ver. Ni en Australia, ni en Alaska, ni en el Mediterráneo, ni en la Antártida. En este mundo, vaya a donde vaya, siempre me sucederá los mismo. Por más maravilloso que sea el paisaje que tenga ante los ojos, nunca me emocionaré; la más hermosa de las vistas no me gustará. Ha desaparecido la persona que me hacía desear, ver, saber y sentir..., incluso vivir.

because he came here on the wrong day, because he was born in the wrong time, because he had been born, it was all wrong from the very beginning, he should have known, should have sensed, that today was not the day to begin anything, nor was tomorrow, there were no days before him now, as there had never even been any, just as there was not and never would be a day...

good can never catch up with evil, because with the gap between good and evil there is no hope whatsoever.

Halics's whole body felt as though it had lost definition and, as for his coat, it had lost whatever resistance to water it once had nor could it protect him from the roaring cataract of fate, or, as he tended to say, "the rain of death in the heart," a rain that beat, day and night, against both his withered heart and defenseless organs.

But nothing could assuage the unconscious fury of our new and tragic understanding, our sense of having been cheated, our fear, for, however we looked for it, we could not find a fit object for our disgust and despair, and so we attacked everything in our way with an equal and infinite passion…

A graveyard of buried hopes is about as romantic a thing as one can imagine.

He soured on life some seconds after he was born and has made a profession of deteriorating ever since.

Life without her would be an endless succession of purposeless days lived with a heavy hopelessness

Morning Star log, Nov. 24. Ain't got nothing good to say. Seas still high. Black clouds out there and black clouds in my mind. To hell with this. To hell with everything.

Like a revolving door to hell.

I just want to die. Oh, why did I get made if it was just for this? There's got to be someplace I belong, something I'm meant to do that's different. Because I don't fit in this world, in this life. And if there isn't something more, I'd rather be dead. I want to dream something else.

My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

The greater part of mankind employ their first years to make their last miserable.

Somos todos miseráveis e devastados, mas poucos homens são capazes de encarar o próprio abismo.

Mon existence est une campagne triste où il pleut toujours.

Para el hombre que reza mucho, no existe tristeza amarga o desesperación

Times are not good here. The city is crumbling into ashes. It has been buried under taxes and frauds and maladministrations so that it has become a study for archaeologists...but it is better to live here in sackcloth and ashes than to own the whole state of Ohio.

For an instant, at least, they seemed one and the same, as though all anguish exists in the same deep well, no matter what loss or misfortune leads us to it. We might be at odds, hate each other, and desired each others destruction, but in our despair, we are lost in the same darkness, breathing the same air as we choke on our grief.

It was the only lullaby she would ever sing, and it was sung in Hell.