Quotes About Despair

She repeated continually, "My God! my God!" But neither "God" nor "my" had any meaning to her.

While I doubted, I had hope; but now there is no hope left and all the same I doubt everything.

Is anything--not even happiness but just not torment--possible?

But I am alive still. Now what's to be done? what's to be done?" he said in despair.

When I doubted, there was hope; but now there is no hope and even so I doubt everything.

Tout était si beau, joyeux et pur dans la maison ; mais dans son âme tout était laid, sale, horrible.

He had but to call to mind what he had been three months before and what he was now. To call to mind with what regularity he had been going downhill for every possibility of hope to be shattered.

Everything within him and around him seemed confused, senseless, and loathsome. But in this very loathing for everything around him, Pierre took a sort of irritating pleasure.

Ayaklar?n? indirdi, kolunun üzerine yan yatt? ve birden kendine ac?maya ba?lad?. Gerasim'in biti?ik odaya geçmesini bekledi, sonra kendini b?rakt? ve çocuklar gibi a?lamaya ba?lad?. Umars?zl???na, korkunç yaln?zl???na, insanlar?n ac?mas?zl???na, Tanr?'n?n ac?mas?zl???na, Tanr?'n?n yoklu?una a?l?yordu.

The truth was that life is meaningless. I had as it were lived, lived, and walked, walked, till I had come to a precipice and saw clearly that there was nothing ahead of me but destruction. It was impossible to stop, impossible to go back, and impossible to close my eyes or avoid seeing that there was nothing ahead but suffering and real death -- complete annihilation.

All's over, and there's nothing more," said Dolly. "And the worst of it all is, you see, that I can't cast him off: there are the children, I am tied. And I can't live with him! It's torture to see him.

He looked back on his past life, which had been so wretched. How had he been able to bear that terrible burden? He had borne it because through the darkness flickered a tiny star of hope. Once when he was alive he thought that perhaps a better lot might still be in store for him. But now that he had advanced toward the end, hope, too, was dead.

You take Seryozha to hurt me," she said, looking at him from under her brows. "You do not love him. . . . Leave me Seryozha!" "Yes, I have lost even my affection for my son, because he is associated with the repulsion I feel for you. But still I shall take him. Goodbye!

I am crushed, I am annihilated, I am no longer a man!

It is no good deceiving oneself. It is all -- vanity! Happy is he who has not been born: death is better than life, and one must free oneself from life.

It was as if the thread of the chief screw which held his life together were stripped, so that the screw could not get in or out, but went on turning uselessly in the same place.

does it ever happen to you to feel as if there were nothing more to come—nothing; that everything good is past? And to feel not exactly dull, but sad?

It was as if the working of his head had stripped the main screw that held his life together. The screw wouldn't go in or come out; it just turned without biting on anything, always in the same hole, and he couldn't stop it turning.

Everything presents itself to me, in the coarsest, most loathsome light.

Having then for the first time clearly understood that before every man, and before himself, there lay only suffering, death, and eternal oblivion, he had concluded that to live under such conditions was impossible; that one must either explain life to oneself so that it does not seem to be an evil mockery by some sort of devil, or one must shoot oneself.

I seen our 'Federates go off laughin' an' gay; full of life an' health. Dey was big an' strong, asingin' Dixie an' dey jus knowed dey was agoin' to win. I seen 'em come back skin an' bone, dere eyes all sad an' hollow, an' dere clothes all ragged. Dey was all lookin' sick. De sperrit dey lef' wid jus' been done whupped outten dem.

Hell is the inability to love.

Nahmanides appreciates that an acquaintance with death can ruin an appetite for life. And so he seeks to secure the mourner against such ruin—to describe an ideal of mourning that is not despair, that honors the encounter with death but does not succumb to it.

even damnation is poisoned with rainbows.