Quotes About Despair

It's like being dead without the commitment.

How did I come to such a dark place? I don't know where my road now leads but I fear the shadowlands that lie ahead. But it is not the darkness of the path I fear. Just the loneliness of the trail.

A holy despair in ourselves is the ground of true hope. In God the fatherless find mercy (Hos. 14:3); if men were more fatherless, they should feel more God's fatherly affection from heaven, for the God who dwells in the highest heavens dwells likewise in the lowest soul (Isa. 57:15).

holy despair in ourselves is the basis for true hope. In God the fatherless find mercy (Hos. 14:3). If men were more fatherless, they should feel more God's fatherly affection from heaven, for the God who dwells in the highest heavens dwells likewise in the lowest soul (Isa. 57:15).

Despair is a high point of atheism, it takes away God and Christ both at once. Judas, in betraying our Saviour, was an occasion of his death as man, but in despairing he did what lay in him to take away his life as God.

People get hurt here. People fall down and stay down and I don't like the way the song goes.

I woke up in the morning and I didn't want anything, didn't do anything, couldn't do it anyway, just lay there listening to the blood rush through me and it never made any sense, anything. And I can't eat, can't sleep, can't sit still or fix things

And words, little words, words too small for any hope or promise, not really soothing

You swallow a bottle of sleeping pills but they don't work.

I don't think I can take this much longer.

I wanted to fall down right there but I knew you wouldn't catch me because you're dead.

The fields burned, the land destroyed, the lovers left broken in the brown dirt.

Sure, I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallow glass, but that comes later.

because you are weak and hollow and it doesn't matter anymore.

I was away, I don't know where, lying on the floor, pretending I was dead.

There's nowhere to go , I thought. There's nowhere to go.

It haunted him all night, while he slept alone; it was still there in the morning, when he swallowed his coffee and backed down the driveway in the crumpled old Ford. And riding to work, one of the youngest and healthiest passengers on the train, he sat with the look of a man condemned to a very slow, painless death. He felt middle-aged.

She cried because she'd had such high, high hopes about the Wheelers tonight and now she was terribly, terribly, terribly disappointed. She cried because she was fifty six years old and her feet were ugly and swollen and horrible; she cried because none of the girls had liked her at school and none of the boys had liked her later; she cried because Howard Givings was the only man who'd ever asked her to marry him, and because she'd done it, and because her only child was insane.

There was probably nothing to be done about a woman like this. Dying for love might be pitiable, but it wasn't much different, finally, from any other kind of dying.

Aveva vinto, ma non si sentiva vincitore. Era riuscito a raddrizzare il corso della propria esistenza, ma si sentiva più che mai vittima dell'indifferenza del mondo. Non sembrava giusto.

How can you talk that way? Frank, has it gotten so bad that you've lost all your belief in yourself?

I'm only interested in stories that are about the crushing of the human heart.

You're painfully alive in a drugged and dying culture.

I've given up on you...Love fades. Mine has.