Quotes About Despair

Despair is the fuel of terrorism, and hope is the fuel of civilization, so we have to put more hope into the world than despair. Hatred and separation and building walls is not the way to progress. Going backward is not the way to go forward.

The twenty-first century is a key century for us on this planet. Either we make a world, where all seven billion people have a fair chance in this century - or forget it. If we can't do this, I don't think we are going to make it as a species. Despair is the fuel of terrorism, and hope is the fuel of civilization, so we have to put more hope into the world than despair. Hatred and separation and building walls is not the way to progress. Going backward is not the way to go forward.

Despair is the fuel of terrorism, and hope is the fuel of civilization

To lose the only creature in all his world who ever had manifested love and affection for him was the greatest tragedy he had ever known.

Still falls the Rain - Dark as the world of man, black as our loss - Blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails Upon the Cross

How I hate everything!

Don't they always go from bad to worse? There's no turning back--your old self rejects you, and shuts you out. ~Lilly Bart

She felt the pitiful inadequacy of this, and understood, with a sense of despair, that in her inability to express herself she must give him an impression of coldness and reluctance; but she could not help it.

The inexorable facts closed in on him like prison-warders handcuffing a convict. There was no way out—none. He was a prisoner for life, and now his one ray of light was to be extinguished.

Uma coisa ele sabia que tinha perdido: a flor da vida. Mas pensava nela como uma coisa tão inantingível e improvável que lamentar-se seria como desesperar porque não se ganhou o primeiro prémio da lotaria. Havia cem milhões de bilhetes na sua lotaria e só um prémio. As chances foram todas definitivamente contra ele.

He pulled the sash down and turned back. Catch my death! he echoed; and he felt like adding: But I've caught it already. I am dead--I've been dead for months and months.

That man touch a hundred? He looks as if he was dead and in hell now!

Granice was overcome by the futility of any further attempt to inculpate himself. He was chained to life - a 'prisoner of consciousness'.

A sense of having been decoyed by some world-old conspiracy into this bondage of body and soul filled her with despair. If marriage was the slow life-long acquittal of a debt contracted in ignorance, then marriage was a crime against human nature.

The whole thing is so far beyond human measure that one's individual rage and revolt seem of no more use than a woman's scream at an accident she isn't in.

Week after week he swung between the extremes of hope and dejection

Everything I touched or did spoke to me of sadness. Each article of clothing—shirt, tie, jacket—felt cut out of different bolts of sadness, each a peculiar weave and shape and hang of sadness, as though sadness came in lots of styles.

It was all terrible and tiring and meaningless.

Their eyes meet and part, each staring into the forlorn space, a shaft of disappointment, he because he is unable to help her and she because she is thrown back into her own quagmire of uncertainty.

Wakened one morning in some dive to know the game was up. Nausea, the shivers, the disease that bums, stevedores, poets, and the city elders all fell foul to. The syph. Had to be burned out of him. Oh man, the mercury that cured also took away, a descent into blindness. "I have sewed sackcloth upon my skin and defiled my horn in the dust.

tears running down her cheeks and her nose, tears from the cold and the prospect of being absent for weeks.

Waiting for something to happen in the deathly, unhappy silence.

Pero, en estos tiempos, es como si el mundo desapareciera cada día. De vez en cuando es un tiempo que no existe. Es inútil apostar por él. Durante más de dos años yo aposté, con cuerpo de perdida y dignidad de caballero, por un tiempo inexistente. No me quejo. No me arrepiento. Puse algo de dinero. Un gramo de locura. Un montón de afecto. Quizás amor. - Nazdrave! Afortunadamente, el amor ya no es lo que era.

but his days were shortened by poison, perhaps the most incurable of poisons; the stings of remorse and despair, and the bitter remembrance of lost glory.