Quotes About Doom

Was now the time to look forward to the doom of parting, and stop looking back at the doom of meeting?

by the essence of their nature, which was frail, all human beings were probably doomed to be seasick.

The prophecy of doom is made to avert its coming, and it would be the height of injustice to later deride the 'alarmists' because 'it did not turn out to be so bad after all'—to have been wrong may be their merit.

He who has spilt blood and he who has drunk blood,' the girl said, her head still lowered, 'shall pay in blood. Within three days one shall die in the other, and something shall die in each. They shall die inch by inch, piece by piece… And when finally the iron-shod clogs wear out and the tears dry, then the last shreds will pass. Even that which never dies shall die.

May Ye All Wail, for the Destroyer of Nations is upon us. Your lands shall they trample and divide with rope. Your cities razed shall be, their dwellers expelled. The bat, owl and raven your homes shall infest, and the serpent will therein make its nest . . . Aen Ithlinnespeath     The

she was doomed to luxuriate in the most immaculate of prisons.

Kubrick's vision seemed to be that humans are doomed, whereas Clarke's is that humans are moving on to a better stage of evolution.

The first 'Gremlins' was PG because I think it was before Spielberg scarred people with 'Temple of Doom.'

They realize their ultimate doom, but they are fatalists, incapable of resistance or escape. Not one of the present generation has been out of sight of these walls.

Their chief is Crom. He dwells on a great mountain. What use to call on him? Little he cares if men live or die. Better to be silent than to call his attention to you; he will send you dooms, not fortune! He is grim and loveless, but at birth he breathes power to strive and slay into a man's soul. What else shall men ask of the gods?

There is no god but evil; no lite but darkness; no hope but doom—

Have you no pity for him, our helpless son? Or me, and the destiny that weighs me down, your widow, now so soon? Yes, soon they will kill you off, all the Achaean forces massed for assault, and then bereft of you, better for me to sink beneath the earth. What other warmth, what comfort's left for me, once you have met your doom? Nothing but torment!

Götterdämmerung;

he had no doubt that the earth would be a vastly different place—a place where the sword of Damocles hung above it by only the most slender thread, forever after.

Yesterday we had feared a doom we did not know; today the doom was known by us all, and feared no less.

My Trumps do not work here, not even the Trumps of Doom. My magic is useless to me, limited as it is by walls the color of Luke's ring. I begin to feel that I might enjoy even the escape of temporary insanity, but my reason refuses to surrender to it, there being too many puzzles to trouble me: Dan Martinez, Meg Devlin, my Lady of the Lake…Why?

Though each love is experienced as unique and though the subject rejects the notion of repeating it elsewhere later on, he sometimes discovers in himself a kind of diffusion of amorous desire; he then realises he is doomed to wander until he dies, from love

For a long time, he had resisted an irreversible shift to pipes for fear of antagonizing the railroads, but this concern had lost its force. When Standard Oil constructed four pipelines from western Pennsylvania to Cleveland, New York, Philadelphia, and Buffalo, he pressured the railroads to grant it right-of-way concessions, even though the pipelines signaled their doom.

Both sides in Germany's cultural battle elevated feeling above reason. And both sides experienced the same basic kind of feeling. The left called it alienation or the angst of nothingness. The right called it götterdämmerung or the philosophy of Schopenhauer. The common denominator is the conviction of doom.

If we fail to solve this moral and spiritual crisis we may be doomed like the great nations of the past.

The divine in human nature disappears and interest, greed and selfishness takes it place. When a Republic begins to plunder its neighbors the words of doom are already written upon its walls.

There's a certain kind of rain that falls only in comics, a thick, persistent drizzle, much heavier than normal water, that bounces off whatever it hits, dripping from fedoras, running slowly down windowpanes and reflecting the doom in bad men's hearts. It's called an "eisnershpritz," and it's named after the late Will Eisner, one of the preeminent stylists of twentieth-century comics, who never drew a foreboding scene that couldn't be made a little more foreboding with a nice big downpour.

He knew factories. No one had fun in factories. They sweltered and slaved, hunched and harried, people reduced to things, manufacturing so much meaningless plastic shit that made no one happy, poisoned the oceans, corrupted the food chain. The modern world was a burning bus speeding toward a cliff with a maniac at the wheel. And he was not apart, but complicit, a hyperactive child making yuk-yuks in his seat, keeping everyone laughing, distracting them from certain doom.

If we don't find what we seek what happen then? Nothing? Everything? Are we set free by our failure, or are we doomed because we failed to find the answer that would have saved us? And how are we supposed to know the difference?