Quotes About Anguish

Long life is a burden, when it's spent in misery.

I feel liquefied, like a cucumber forgotten in the crisper drawer, and I want to hold myself at arm's length and carry me to the trash. Who is this sack of slush masquerading as me? It's intolerable.

Head held high, she stepped toward the block and sank to her knees, and it was then that Akiva started to scream. His voice soared over the pandemonium - a scream to scour the souls of all gathered, a sound to drive ghosts from their nests.

The terror-the terror, the terror-lingered, and there was something else. It came with the dream, every time, and didn't recede with it but stayed like something a tide had washed in. Something awful-a rank leviathan corpse left to rot on the shore of her mind. It was remorse. But god, that was too bloodless a word for it,. This feeling the dream left her with, it was knives of panic and horror resting bright atop a red and meaty wound-fester of guilt.

It was like dying, but without the consolation of oblivion.

To have been granted so tiny a taste of the nectar of her mouth, and so brief a brush with the velvet of her lips was unspeakable cruelty. He felt set on fire.

Pensé que estabas muerta. Y... quise... morir yo también.

For that instant, at least, they seemed one and the same, as though all anguish exists in the same deep well, no matter what loss or misfortune leads us to it. We might be at odds, hate each other, and desire each other's destruction, but in our despair, we are lost in the same darkness, breathing the same air as we choke on our grief.

You haven't broken his heart yet, have you?" "No," Tessa said. Just torn my own in two. "I haven't broken his heart at all.

Sharp are the arrows of a broken heart.

Oh God." said Magnus, "they're dead. They're all dead!

For a moment Clary thought she might fall; she felt as if something essential had been torn away from her, an arm or a leg, and she stared at Jace in blank astonishment-- what did he feel, did he feel nothing? She didn't think she could bear it if he felt nothing.

Clary closed her eyes. Remembering the way Jace had looked at her the night she'd freed Ithuriel, she couldn't help but imagine the way he'd look at her now if he saw her trying to lie down to die on the sand beside him. He wouldn't be touched, wouldn't think it was a beautiful gesture. He'd be angry at her for giving up. He'd be so--disappointed.

Come back to me, Tessa. Henry said that perhaps, since you had touched the soul of an angel, that you dream of Heaven now, of fields of angels and flowers of fire. Perhaps you are happy in those dreams. But I ask this out of pure selfishness. Come back to me. For I cannot bear to lose all my heart.

There are some kinds of wounds you can get, internal injuries. You don't know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside.

Tessa is gone, and every moment she is gone is a knife ripping me apart from the inside.

Magnus exhaled - for a moment he no longer felt ill, or afraid of dying, or even angry or bitter. Relief washed over him, as profound as sorrow, and he reached up to brush the cheek of the boy leaning over him with the back of his bruised knuckles. Alec's eyes were huge and blue and full of anguish. "Oh, my Alec," he said. "You've been so sad. I didn't know.

Sebastian lay a few feet away from her, on his back. There was a great blackened hole across the front of his chest. He turned his head toward her, his face taut and white with pain, and her heart contracted. His eyes were green.

Tessa is gone, and every moment she is gone is a knife ripping me apart from the inside. She is gone, and they cannot track her, and I have no idea where to go or what to do next, and the only person I can imagine speaking my agony to is the one person who cannot know.

Oh, God," Magnus said. "They're dead. They're all dead.

Please, ground, just open up and let me fall into an endless crevasse till I hit the center of the earth and combust. Please. Is that too much to ask?

You rip my heart out and it should not hurt?" His teeth closed on her earlobe, nipping lightly, sending shivers over her skin. "You spit upon all that I am, and it should not hurt? You abandon me, you dishonor me, and it should not hurt?

He looks troubled, then slowly nods. "I suppose I have. Grief and loss, they help you focus on what's really important. They make you more aware of all the anguish and the sorrow in the world, make you face up to it, because otherwise they lurk inside you your whole life." "So you suffered as you pursued your goal. But all of us suffer. Sorrow and anguish are knit into the fabric of life itself. No one has the market on it.

He feels a seizing in his chest, a familiar searing pain. He tries to breathe around it, but it's too big. It radiates along his left arm, folds him in half, like he's a piece of trash too big for disposal.