Quotes About Anguish

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And now your dead inside, still you wonder why, when your on the edge and falling off, its all over, for you

Or perhaps it is that time doesn't heal wounds at all, perhaps that is the biggest lie of them all, and instead what happens is that each wound penetrates the body deeper and deeper until one day you find that the sheer geography of your bones - the angle of your head, the jutting of your hips, the sharpness of your shoulders, as well as the luster of your eyes, the texture of your skin, the openness of your smile - has collapsed under the weight of your griefs.

My soul is withering.

while money couldn't always buy you happiness, a lack of money always brought anguish.

There are not many things that can happen much worse to a family than having a member taken and not knowing what happened to them.

Bessie could not keep from thinking, "His nightmare will be over, but mine will never be.

Estoy sufriendo las penas del infierno sin ni siquiera haber muerto.

Is the need for a father always there, or do we feel it only when we are confused, or anguished, when our world is falling apart?

They've been taping your phone conversations for four years." He lay down again, weeping silently. "I want to die," he said.

O my son Absalom,' Bean said softly, knowing for the first time the kind of anguish that could tear such words from a man's mouth. 'my son, my son Absalom. Would God I could die for thee, O Absalom, my son. My sons!

There is no Mystery so great as Misery.

Alors, ma passion n'a pas d'échos en lui. Pour lui mon tragique amour n'est rien qu'un blasphème anormal. Oh, mon Carlo, mon Carlo, et toi, tu étais mon sang, ma chair! Comme je souffre! Grand dieu, comme je souffre!

Creative work is often driven by pain. It may be that if you don't have something in the back of your head driving you nuts, you may not do anything. It's not a good arrangement. If I were God, I wouldn't have done it that way. [Interview, The Wall Street Journal , Nov. 20, 2009]

See the hand that nursed the serpent. The fine hasped pipes of her fingerbones. The skin bewenned and speckled. The veins are milkblue and bulby. A thin gold ring set with diamonds. That raised the once child's heart of her to agonies of passion before I was. Here is the anguish of mortality. Hopes wrecked, love sundered. See the mother sorrowing. How everything that I was warned of's come to pass.

She looks like her face caught fire and they beat it out with a rake

See the hand that nursed the serpent. The fine hasped pipes of her fingerbones. The skin bewenned and speckled. The veins are milkblue and bulby. A thin gold ring set with diamonds. That raised the once child's heart of her to agonies of passion before I was. Here is the anguish of mortality. Hopes wrecked, love sundered. See the mother sorrowing. How everything that I was warned of's come to pass.

Out of that whirlwind no voice spoke and the pilgrim lying in his broken bones may cry out and in his anguish he may rage, but rage at what? And if the dried and blackened shell of him is found among the sands by travelers to come yet who can discover the engine of his ruin?

My life is ghastly

I hadnt known until that night that at its worst lust could be something close to anguish.

Everything is painful to me. I think. Maybe I'm just a painful person.

When her aunt Helen came to visit she asked the girl what she wanted to be when she grew up and she said dead.

She shed no tears. She just sat there, as if someone had cut out her heart.

What a plague love is!