Quotes About Despair

Sometimes, when the nights are cold And darkness is all there is to hold I dream of what comes after death Tears pour while I hold my breath It's hard to want to stay and breathe In a world where everybody leaves Where I was never once enough For anyone who claimed to love My dark mosaic soul.

Hell is.. Where we leave behind all hope.

In a world filled with despair, we must uplift and give people hope so that every tomorrow is a vision of hope." Because once upon a time we forgot how to fly.

She talks about the desertion. How each time it broke her heart. How with each break it became harder to heal. How with each time she healed, it became harder to love again. How each time hope faded into desolation. Into loneliness and despair. Into self-hatred and self-loathing. At the beginning there was hope. It faded. At the end there was nothing.

Every man has a right to kill himself.

Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.

By his monstrous way of life he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke to him from the real world unless he heard it in an echo of the infuriated cries within him.

He looked down the slope and, at the base, in the shadow of the wall of the Park, he saw some human figures lying. Those venal and furtive loves filled him with despair. He gnawed the rectitude of his life; he felt that he had been outcast from life's feast.

He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place. (...) He wanted to cry.

Help! he sighed. I feel a strong weakness.

This is the very worst hour of the day. Vitality. Dull, gloomy : hate this hour. Feel as if I had been eaten and spewed.

YaÅŸad??? deÄŸerler yüreÄŸini ac?laÅŸt?rm??t? dünyaya kar??. Ama bütün umudunu da yitirmemiÅŸti.

By his monstrous way of life he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke to him from the real world unless he heard in it an echo of the infuriated cries within him.

bowl of bitter waters.

By his monstrous way of life, he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke to him from the real world unless he heard it in an echo of the infuriated cries within him. He could respond to no earthly or human appeal, dumb and insensible to the call of summer and gladness and companionship, wearied and dejected by his father's voice. He could scarcely recognize as his own thoughts, and repeated slowly to himself: - I am Stephen Dedalus

A field of stiff weeds and thistles and tufted nettle-bunches. Thick among the tufts of rank stiff growth lay battered canisters and clots and coils of solid excrement. A faint marshlight struggling upwards from all the ordure through the bristling grey-green weeds. An evil smell, faint and foul as the light, curled upwards sluggishly out of the canisters and from the stale crusted dung.

One human being had seemed to love him and he had denied her life and happiness: he had sentenced her to ignominy, a death of shame. He knew that the prostrate creatures down by the wall were watching him and wished him gone. No one wanted him; he was outcast from life's feast.

Avert they gaze, heathen scum. The likes of us do not deserve to gaze upon such beauty! Tis better to grind our eyes into the dirt!

All our dreams and hopes become as naught, and evil men are allowed to hang their lanterns on our tombstones. What greater folly is there?

and made famous by Janis Joplin. It was one of despair and loss and unrelieved misery, one that maybe only a black woman of Thornton's era could adequately understand. The song was "Ball and Chain.

These thoughts robbed the light from my eyes

I would start with four fingers of Jack in a thick mug, with a sweating Budweiser back, and by midnight I would be alone at the end of the bar, armed, drunk, and hunched over my glass, morally and psychologically insane.

I always had the sense that Desmond was trying to shrink inside his clothes, as though both fear and a great sadness lived inside him.

When death stole the love of your life, no amount of revenge ever healed the hole in your heart. You lived with anger and physical yearnings that were insatiable, and you went about dismantling yourself on a daily basis, tendon and joint, for the rest of your days, all the time wearing the mask of a court jester.