Quotes About Despair

What still doth waste, and wasting as this light, Are my sad days unto eternal night.

By November, you wish you were dead. You want nothing more. Every day, every fucking day, you run up the steps of the house, breathing hard, swing open the cupboards, thinking: You pitiful little bitch. Fucking cow. Greedy pig. All day, your stomach pinches and spits up its bile. You sway when you walk. You begin to get cold again.

I was perpetually grief-stricken when I finished a book, and would slide down from my sitting position on the bed, put my cheek on the pillow and sigh for a long time. It seemed there would never be another book. It was all over, the book was dead. It lay in its bent cover by my hand. What was the use? Why bother dragging the weight of my small body down to dinner? Why move? Why breathe? The book had left me, and there was no reason to go on.

My bones are brittle, my heart weak and erratic, my esophagus and stomach riddled with ulcers, my reproductive system shot, my immune system useless... I'm not going to have a happy ending.

You begin to forget what it means to live. You forget things. You forget that you used to feel all right. You forget what it means to feel all right because you feel like shit all of the time, and you can´t remember what it was like before.

The idea began to sink in, more than it ever had, that I might be crazy, in the traditional sense of the word. That I might be, forever and ever amen, a Crazy Person. That's what we'd suspected all along, what I'd been working so hard to disprove, what might be true. I preferred, by far, being dead.

And then the horror sets in. All that time I wasn't crazy; I was, in fact, crazy. It's hopeless. I'm hopeless. Bipolar disorder. Manic depression. I'm sick. It's true. It isn't going to go away. All my life, I've thought that if I just worked hard enough, it would. I've always thought that if I just pulled myself together, I'd be a good person, a calm person, a person like everyone

Forgive me for being chipper, but despair is desperately dull.

There is much I do not understand about the way humans think of punishment and forgiveness, and what happens to sinners when they die. I wish Jessamine was here to explain it to me, for the plants do not speak of heaven and hell. They speak only of the turning of the seasons and of starting anew each spring. Never despair, they counsel, for the orchard that is barren one season may bear fruit in plenty in the next.

The misfortune! The misery! The . . . whatever is worse than misery!

The vibrations created by irritation are equivalent to those of mercury, by anger to those of lead, and by sadness and sorrow to those of aluminum. In the same way, uncertainty is related to cadmium, despair to steel, and stress to zinc.

The torment of love can transform people into wretched monsters

Las penas amorosas pueden transformar a la gente en monstruos de tristeza.

La temperatura de mi corazón ha caído bajo cero. Estás muerta.

No me queda sangre, tengo noche en las venas, negra y helada.

Guardo el recuerdo de una chica que dormía en mi corazón, se despertaba a cada minuto para accionar los latidos y se dormía de nuevo. Un día, no se despertó y mi corazón se secó... Me golpeé el pecho, grité, me lancé contra árboles, y nada.

Y es la intensidad loca de esa esperanza destruida la que hoy me adormecía.

Hope is a better friend than despair.

Stray no further. Do not embrace hope again.

Most days I wish I never met you. Because then I could sleep at night. I wouldn't have to walk around with the knowledge that someone like you was out there. And I wouldn't have to watch you throw it all away.

I wanted to be dead. No. That's not quite right. I didn't want to be dead, I just didn't want to be alive.

She realised that she hadn't tried to end her life because she was miserable, but because she had managed to convince herself that there was no way out of her misery.

Fear was when you wandered into a cellar and worried that the door would close shut. Despair was when the door closed and locked behind you.

Life is frightening, and it is frightening for a reason, and the reason is that it doesn't matter which branch of a life we get to live, we are always the same rotten tree. I wanted to be many things in my life. All kinds of things. But if your life is rotten, it will be rotten no matter what you do. The damp rots the whole useless thing...