Quotes About Anguish

It's unendurable. It is the moaning of the world, it is the martyred creation, wild with anguish, filled with terror, and groaning.

Churchill] stood. As he spoke, his voice shook and tears streamed. 'In these days,' he said, 'I often think of Our Lord.' He could say no more. He sat down and looked at no one – the great orator made speechless by the weight of the day. Cowles found herself deeply moved. 'I have never forgotten those simple words and if he enjoyed waging the war let it be remembered that he understood the anguish of it as well.

All the despair, terror and anguish of hundreds of souls passing into eternity composed that awful cry.

He has no doubts, there is nothing you can say to sway him, to give him hope or trust. He is a miserable animal whose body decays, who will die, who will pass into dust and oblivion, disappear forever not only in this world but in all the possible dimensions of the universe, whose life serves no conceivable purpose, who may as well not have been born, and so on and so forth.

A few minutes of fear, a few seconds of anguish, and it is over.

My heart's broken,' he thought. 'If I feel this way my heart must be broken.

Oh, darling, I've been so miserable.

You're awfully dark, brother, he said. You don't know how dark.

When she cried her whole face went to pieces.

feeling." "No," she said. "I think it's hell on earth.

How do you feel? I feel like hell. Have another? It won't do any good. Try it. You can't tell; maybe this is the one that gets it. Hey, waiter! Another absinthe for this señor!

He was in despair. What about? Nothing. How do you know it was nothing? He has plenty of money.

If there were God, never would He have permitted what I have seen with my eyes. Let them have God.

I hate him, too," she shivered. "I hate his damned suffering.

Revenge often looks petty, but I have come to respect the depth of hurt it conceals.

My heart's like a wounded beast, clawing me in its death-throes . . . My stomach's a bottomless pit, my mouth a funnel of fire. Hunger and thirst, hunger and thirst . . .

O, who shall from this dungeon raise A soul enslaved so many ways? With bolts of bones, that fettered stands In feet; and manacled in hands. Here blinded with an eye: and there Deaf with the drumming of an ear; A soul hung up, as 'twere, in chains Of nerves, and arteries, and veins; Tortured, besides each other part, In a vain head and double heart?

Everything drains from my body. There's no thrill of being right. It's just an overwhelming sense of dread.

impotent misery

Violence breeds violence. Hatred has grown into hearts… and has poisoned kindred blood…" "What?" Olsen grimaced. "Use a human language!" "Hard times are upon us." "So

And from the coffin of your madness there is no escape.

And it was sad music fit to make you cut your throat.

I am the lady of the castle. My name is exile. My name is anguish. My name is longing. Far from the world on the windy crests of the mountain, I am kept in absolute seclusion, my time passes in an endless reverie, a perpetual swooning. I am both the Sleeping Beauty and the enchanted castle; the princess drowses in the castle of her flesh.

Pero había en mí una desolación infinita, la sensación, inexpresable en palabras, de que nada en aquel mundo ligaba, de que todo estaba torcido y que no había ningún ser humano ni uno solo, en quien apoyarse.