Quotes About Anguish

At the sight of her, sadness and loss rolled over him, worse

Slowed down by a sense of hopelessness in all his decisions and movements, he suffered from bitter sadness, and his incapacity solidified into a pain that often sat like a nosebleed behind his forehead the moment he tried to make up his mind to do something.

Our souls have been suffering in a kind of darkness

Fear is a vile thing, and is at the bottom of almost every wrong and hatred of the world.

I wish I were dead, or that it were tomorrow night,' groaned Phil.

Leslie, after her first anguish was over, found it possible to go on with life after all, as most of us do, no matter what our particular form of torment has been. It is even possible that she enjoyed moments of it, when she was one of the gay circle in the little house of dreams.

Peter was going to die—to DIE.

Oh, this is the most TRAGICAL thing that ever happened to me!

No había lágrimas, solo el mismo dolor horrible de pena y tristeza que siguió haciéndole daño hasta que se quedó dormida

The moment when a woman realises that she has nothing to live for--neither love, duty, purpose nor hope--holds for her the bitterness of death.

tasted the bitterness of death

There had to be a circle of Hell where you were eternally fourteen, eternally in junior high. One of the lower circles.

People talk of sorrow as if it is soft, a thing of water and tears. But true sorrow is not soft. True sorrow is a thing of fire, and rock. It burns your heart, crushes your soul under the weight of mountains. It destroys, and even if you keep breathing, keep going, you die.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die ,die..

My world is falling apart.

My head is killing me, my throat is killing me, my stomach bubbles with toxic waste. I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid if this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind.

I open a paperclip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this. A whimper, a peep? I draw little window cracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting.

I don't say anything and I feel awful. I tell somebody and I feel worse. I'm having trouble finding a middle ground.

12. I wasn't just encased in hardening concrete up to my chin; it was pouring down my throat. I was in a race to see if I would die from the outside in or the inside out.

We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.

In the English language there are orphans and widows, but there is no word for the parents who loses a child.

What greater pain could mortals have than this: To see their children dead before their eyes?

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan For that deep wound it gives my friend and me; Is't not enough to torture me alone, But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day!