Quotes About Despair

Mi vida ha sido un fracaso —dijo Walter—. Aquí acaban todas las esperanzas. La democracia alemana ha muerto.

What we did in that momentous year of 1558 caused political strife, revolt, civil war, and invasion. There were times, in later years, when in the depths of despair I would wonder whether it had been worth it. The simple idea that people should be allowed to worship as they wished caused more suffering than the ten plagues of Egypt. So, if I had known then what I know now, would I have done the same? Hell yes.

All the same he was depressed and bitter. Life never dealt him a winning hand.

Merthin stood and watched with tears pouring down his face.

Ya lo ves, todo cuanto amaba me fue arrebatado —dijo con frialdad—. Cuando uno lo ha perdido todo… —Empezaba a desmoronarse, pero se esforzó por continuar—. Cuando uno lo ha perdido todo, ya no le queda nada más que perder.

These Sunday afternoons were the golden moments in a life that was rapidly falling apart. The

There were times, in later years, when in the depths of despair I would wonder whether it had been worth it. The simple idea that people should be allowed to worship as they wished caused more suffering than the ten plagues of Egypt. So, if I had known then what I know now, would I have done the same? Hell yes.

It was an amputation. I would never get back the part of me that vanished when Sylvie died. I knew the feeling of a man who tries to walk having lost a leg. I would never shake off the sense that something should be there, where the missing limb had always been. There was a hole in my life, a great gaping cavity that could never be filled.

Win or lose, the crows always laughed--the hard, old jaded laughter that came of looking at the world with a black and practiced eye. From the less skillful the laugh might have hinted of despair, or silliness, like the magpies', but the crows were masters of the wry outlook, and Viv never heard them but what she followed their expert lead and laughed along--they knew the secret of black, that it could not be made blacker, and if neither could it be made lighter, it could still be made funnier.

Sometimes—after futile all-nights—deserts fill my work-house and smoking sand gets in my eyes . . . and I must split the swollen cabin to check the dawn, to find: the creek still parties with the moon . . . the thrusting pine and whippoorwills still celebrate the sun. It generally works, and things are cool, but sometimes—after cutting out—nothing out there happens but the night. And those days were best forgotten.

We have been given God in our souls and Christ in our flesh. We have the power to believe where others deny, to hope where others despair, to love where others hurt.

I live only because it is in my power to die when I choose to: without the idea of suicide, I'd have killed myself right away.

It didn't take a trauma to make you wear a mask. It didn't take your parents getting shot...or cosmic rays or a power ring...Just the perfect combination of loneliness and despair.

The tragedy of power like mine is that there is no way down. There can only be extinction. Dust to dust rags to rags fear to fear.

God delights in our temptations and yet hates them. He delights in them when they drive us to prayer; he hates them when they drive us to despair.

Father of Light! great God of Heaven! Hear'st thou the accents of despair? Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven? Can vice atone for crimes by prayer.

Help me give up my addiction to Hope.

It's exactly at these moments, when all hope has vanished, that prayer has dominion.

What do I haveto help me, without spell or prayer,endure this hour, endless, heartless, anonymous,the death of love?

Jesus Christ is a God whom we approach without pride and before whom we humble ourselves without despair.

Our rages daughters of despair creep and squirm like worms. Prayer is the only form of revolt which remains upright.

There are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship.

Humility provides everyone, even him who despairs in solitude, with the strongest relationship to his fellow man.

We mourn the blossoms of May because they are to whither; but we know that May is one day to have its revenge upon November, by the revolution of that solemn circle which never stops---which teaches us in our height of hope, ever to be sober, and in our depth of desolation, never to despair.