Quotes About Despair

God knows I tried my best to learn the ways of this world, even had inklings we could be glorious; but after all that's happened, the inkles ain't easy anymore. I mean - what kind of fucken life is this?

gaze at him in despair, for I have not been listening to a word, and have no idea what I think about it. I have been caught out in the reprehensible act of listening to other people's conversation, and neglecting my own.

People can't go on living without happiness—or at least without hope.

Sometimes I feel the same," said Dane gravely, "as if it were too much to bear … to go through it all again, only much worse, because now one understands more, and there's none of the glitter and excitement. Now one sees the futility of the sacrifice.

They were all unhappy but I could do nothing to help them. Nobody could help them. Perhaps the worst part of it was their unkindness to one another—yes, that was the worst. I had never before met people like this: people who were bitter and unkind and hopeless, people who had no happiness in life nor any expectation of happiness

'Sin Nombre' was almost like the adolescent version of 'Jane Eyre.' 'Jane Eyre' sort of picks up where 'Sin Nombre' ends. It's about this girl who starts off on her own at her lowest point of despair, and she figures out how she got there.

The beautiful despair is never fruitless. It keeps you going. Like when I first heard Bob Dylan do 'Things Have Changed,' or any time I see any work of art really beautifully done, like Michelangelo's 'The David' or that movie 'Lost in Translation' - it inspires me to try and find my own version of that.

The point about hope is that it is something that occurs in very dark moments. It is like a flame in the darkness; it isn't like a confidence and a promise.

Like the suffering child, gang members act out of their despair, and their actions are all the more alarming now for our not having heeded their cry long ago. The shortsighted neglect that keeps us locked up in our outrage has also kept us from viable solutions.

Victims always feel alone and helpless.

Donald Trump has a mantra of despair, of loss. He says we don't have victories anymore. We used to have victories, but we don't. And he says the American dream is dead.

It is easy to fall into despair thinking about all that is wrong with the world. The joys seems so small in comparison. Internet videos of cats riding Roombas just can't compete with a father talking about how his dead 13-year-old son had wanted to be a pilot.

I can't be a gentleman," he said hoarsely. "Not even for you." "You don't have to be a gentleman. Only gentle." No one had ever asked him for such a thing. To his despair, he realized it wasn't in him. His hands gripped the edges of the desk until the wood threatened to crack. " Cariad ... there's nothing gentle about how I want you." He was startled by the endearment that had slipped out, one he had never used with anyone.

Dressed in her white gown, with only a light sheet to cover her legs, she looked as small as a child as she lay alone in her bed. She was dying, Zachary thought numbly, and he could not seem to think of what would happen afterward. For him there would be no hopes, no expectations, no future pleasure or happiness, as if his own life would end when hers did.

Hope is my enemy. It's worse than lies. It promises and it takes back. It teases and it rips my heart out.

Broken" from the band Life-house fills the room, because Chris doesn't know how personal it is to me. I'm falling apart. I'm barely breathing. I'm barely holding on to you. This song, this place with the words, and I am raw

I felt the sadness thoroughly. I believed it then. I wrote the sadness in my diary, I drank the sadness in my room or in cafés, I fucked the sadness. I almost believed I was the sadness.

My heart is empty & my life has no value anymore. Each moment a thousand tears.

My head was a desolate place and as barren as the bare hills of Le Marche. Until I began to build in it, only vultures nested there. The palace started as a single vaulted room and grew in proportion to my despair. It began as an exercise to keep my mind from its melancholy, then it became a dream and a necessity. . . . I built a temple in my head. . . . Its hallways were as lofty as a cathedral, and the arch of each window as supple as a bow. Its corridors were the passages of my own brain.

The palace started as a single vaulted room and grew in proportion to my despair. It began as an exercise to keep my mind from its melancholy, then it became a dream and a necessity. . . . I built a temple in my head. . . . Its hallways were as lofty as a cathedral, and the arch of each window as supple as a bow. Its corridors were the passages of my own brain.

I clench my teeth so hard the pain travels all the way to the top of my head. I'm glad for it. It's just a little ache, and I know where it comes from. I can stop it any time I want. The one in my heart is way bigger. I can't fix it no matter how hard I try. It scares me so much that I can't even breathe.

Things could be worse is wearing thin. I'm exhausted. I'm confused. I am effectively talking to the air.

Truth is, instead of fixing everything, the Arcadia made everything real. Camellia's gone. Lark and Gabion are far away. Queenie's buried in a pauper's grave, and Briny's heart went there with her. He's lost his mind to whiskey, and he doesn't want to come back. Not even for me. Not even for Fern. We're not enough.

One by one, drops fell from her eyes like they were on an assembly line - gather, fall, slide...gather, fall, slide...each one commemorating something she had lost. Hope. Faith. Confidence. Pride. Security. Trust. Independence. Joy. Beauty. Freedom. Innocence.