Quotes About Anguish

My life was ripped off!

The limit of every pain is an even greater pain.

From such a gentle thing, from such a fountain of all delight, my every pain is born.

I feel hurt and pain times a million, all the time.

When a parent loses a child, there is no greater pain.

His pain. His own. He made it.

There is now, in my mouth, this sharp chain. And it never comes out.

?ntihar intihard?r ve ba?ka bir ?ey de?ildir. ?ntihar ediyorum. Kendi kendimden nefretimin çerçeveledi?i ve çirkinle?tirdi?i bir dünyada yaln?z?m.

Every day my anxiety is higher, every day the grief more mortal. Today more than yesterday terror exalts me…

Je n'ai pas des angoisses, je suis dans une angoisse perpétuelle.

Whether you're Godard or Almodovar or Scorsese, it's text, text, text. Everything begins with the text, and this is a source of great anguish to me. So please let cinema get on with doing what it does best, which is expressing ideas in visual terms.

Do you know the solo at the end of 'Why Don't You Love Me Any More?' that sounds like a chainsaw breaking through? That is what I can't do with my voice. That's when you hear how painful this has been to me.

There's a lot of times when I just want to scream into the void.

Living, it's awful for me.

weeping...betraying a sense of loss so huge and irreparable that the mind balks at taking its measure.

The conversation that ensued was anguished and halting. We avoided making eye contact. After five minutes, however, all four of us concurred: Hutchison's decision to leave Beck and Yasuko where they lay was the proper course of action.

My heart floated dead and cold in my chest.

E così loro stanno tranquilli nelle loro case a rimpinguare profitti, e noi siamo tutti qui. I nostri affari sono un fallimento, i posti di lavoro si assottigliano, gli ospedali vanno a pezzi, le campagne sono allo stremo, le nostre case confiscate, i nostri corpi avvelenati, le nostre menti all'ammasso, tutto lo spirito vitale del paese è straziato, ridotto all'ultimo respiro

His expression was like a perspectival regression toward a vanishing point of misery.

But that slip of paper wouldn't disappear, ever, and neither would the image of his prostrate wife, and neither would the thought that if he could, it might greatly improve his life to end it.

She didn't love life. There was no convincing reason to live

De ce facem asa? De ce lucrurile dureroase sunt intotdeauna niste electromagneti?

Misery requires paradises lost

Y no comprendo cómo el tiempo pasa Yo, que soy tiempo y sangre y agonía.