Quotes About Anguish

She was vanquished, undone, and humiliated that she had moaned.

Anguish devours the mind, and furious rage, and hope than which the heart can bear no heavier burden, when it is long deferred.

A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?

Literature is a toil and a snare, a curse that bites deep.

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire; that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.

No, thats not how it happened... Mr crepsley dropped. He was impaled on the stakes. He died. And it was awful... His cries as he writhed there, bleeding and dying, burning and screaming, will stay with me till I die. Maybe I'll even carry them with me after I go.

I'm sure I could crack open my skull and scoop out enough of my brain to put myself out of my misery. It would be a gruesome way to die, but wouldn't it be better than shuffling around as a lost, tormented soul for the rest of my wretched years?

Morning comes like a scream through a pinhole.

That day at school I prayed for the world to end.

The depressed person was in terrible and unceasing pain, and the impossibility of sharing or articulating this pain was itself a component of the pain and a contributing factor in its essential horror.

I'm awful sorry to bother. I can come back. I was wondering if maybe there was any special Program prayer for when you want to hang yourself.

the being struck dumb. It's like some combination of invisibility and being buried alive, in terms of the feeling. It's like being strangled somewhere deeper inside you than your neck.

La persona deprimida experimentava un dolor emocional terrible i incessant, i la impossibilitat de compartir o articular aquest dolor era en si mateixa un dels components del dolor i un dels factors que contribuïen al seu horror essencial.

What sort of God would put us here in this goddamned, stinking slaughterhouse of a world?

Dreadful doubt and anguish - prayers and fears and griefs unspeakable - followed the regiment. It was the women's tribute to the war. It taxes both alike, and takes the blood of the men, and the tears of the women.

It is impossible not to notice that our world is tormented by failure, hate, guilt, and fear.

O, full of scorpions is my mind!

But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

One pain is lessened by another's anguish. ... Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.

It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

The worst was this: my love was my decay.

Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe

Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.

Despair and die. The ghosts