Quotes About Despair

Nothing evokes the end of the world more than a man running straight ahead on a beach, swathed in the sounds of his walkman . . . Primitives, when in despair, would commit suicide by swimming out to sea until they could swim no longer. The jogger commits suicide by running up and down the beach. His eyes are wild, saliva drips from his mouth. Do not stop him.

This is the true break, not a social fracture but a symbolic one: in the advent of an integral reality that absorbs all aspirations towards dreaming, surpassing or revolt. -The despair of having everything. -The despair of being nothing. -The despair of being everybody. -The despair of being nobody.

It is excruciating to be an unbeliever with a spirit that is deeply religious... Poetry is a religion without hope.

This was more than death, it was the heart's death.

Yeryüzünde benim için her ÅŸey bitti. Burada bana art?k ne iyilik edebilirler ne de kötülük. Ne umaca??m ne de korkaca??m bir ÅŸey kald? bu dünyada; zavall? bahts?z bir ölümlü ve Tanr? kadar kayg?s?z, telaÅŸs?z olan ben, uçurumun en dibindeyim.

Suddenly, just as the rain began to fall in earnest, he sat down and howled.

I felt myself in a solitude so frightful that I contemplated suicide. What held me back was the idea that no one, absolutely no one, would be moved by my death, that I would be even more alone in death than in life.

Concha would cry when she found out I was dead, she should have no taste for life for months afterward. But I was still the one who was going to die. I thought of her soft, beautiful eyes. when she looked at me something passed her to me. But I knew it was over: if she looked at me now the look would stay in her eyes, it wouldn't reach me. I was alone

Human feeling. That's beyond my range. I'm rotten to the core.

Men all alone, completely alone with horrible monstrosities, will run through the streets, pass heavily in front of me, their eyes staring, fleeing their ills yet carrying with them, open-mouthed, with their insect-tongue flapping its wings. Then I'll burst out laughing even though my body may be covered with filthy, infected scabs which blossom into flowers of flesh, violets, buttercups.

When a man hasn't the courage to kill himself wholesale, he must do so retail.' He would walk down to the water and say: 'Farewell to what I love most in the world...

On this Earth that bleeds, all joy is obscene, and all happy men must live alone.

Canturrea para no pensar, padece como una avara, a veces desea sufrir un buen golpe, hundirse en la desesperación

Mes crimes désormais ont comblé la mesure. Je respire à la fois l'inceste et l'imposture

I have been too unhappy, I thought, it cannot last, being so unhappy, it would kill you

It was the darkness that got you. It was heavy darkness, greasy and compelling. It made walls round you, and shut you in so that you felt like you could not breathe.

I've had enough of these streets that sweat a cold, yellow slime, of hostile people, of crying myself to sleep every night. I've had enough of thinking, enough of remembering.

She lifted her eyes. Blank, lovely eyes. Mad eyes. A mad girl.

Nothing left but hopelessness.' Say die and I will die. Say die and watch me die.

there is peace in despair in exactly the same way as there is despair in peace.

That was when it was sad, when you lay awake at night and remembered things. That was when it was sad, when you stood by the bed and undressed, thinking, "When he kisses me, shivers run up my back. I am hopeless, resigned, utterly happy. Is that me? I am bad, not good any longer, bad. That has no meaning, absolutely none. Just words. But something about the darkness of the streets has a meaning.

La mort m'eut semblé un moindre suicide

The sensuality of desperate lives. Only poets talk like that. But poetry has never had an answer for anything. All it does it bear witness. To despair. And desperate lives.

But poetry has never had an answer for anything. All it does is bear witness. To despair. And desperate lives.