Quotes About Anguish

My heart lurched and cleanly broke.

What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music.... And people flock around the poet and say: 'Sing again soon' - that is, 'May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.

I was much plagued by Satan, until I found that it was God who was tempting me; then the anguish of him passed out of my soul for ever.

Life was a sorrowful throb of this Matter teaching it anguish, Teaching it hope and desire trod out too soon in the mire, Life the frail joy that regrets its briefness, life the long sorrow.

Life, the river of the Spirit, consenting to anguish and sorrow.

O foolish man that I then was, enduring impatiently the lot of man! I fretted then, sighed, wept, was distracted; had neither rest nor counsel. For I bore about a shattered and bleeding soul, impatient of being borne by me, yet where to repose it, I found not.

Memory, with its fugitive adjustments, is the merciful veil to the grim enactments of the first law. It hides the anguish in the human heart which is always craving for perpetuity.

savez-vous ce que c'est que de voir mourir quelqu'un ? Y avez-vous déjà assisté ? Avez-vous vu comment le corps se recroqueville, comment les ongles bleuis griffent le vide, comment chaque membre se contracte, chaque doigt se raidit contre l'effroyable issue, comment un râle sort du gosier...avez-vous vu dans les yeux exorbités cette épouvante qu'aucun mot ne peut rendre ?

Once shame touches your being at any point, even the most distant nerve is implicated, whether you know it or not; any fleeting encounter or random thought will rake up the anguish and add to it.

She searched the truth with an anguish almost as great as her terrible fear of finding it .

The truth is what hurts

Because to tell you the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape

Fear has silenced the voice of truth in your world, and this is the anguish with which you struggle.

Lucille is so upset about it, she hasn't shed a tear since

Every hour that passes, another hundredweight of sand is poured in through a tiny hole in Landsman's soul. After his eyes are closed, what happens is never quite sleep, and the thoughts that plague him, though atrocious, are never quite dreams.

It was like that with Rosa now. He spent all of his time squelching his thoughts, tamping down his feelings. There was an ache in the hinge of his jaw.

Ten years might as well be a hundred if you are doing time for a crime you didn't commit, he said.

like the ghastly mouth in Edvard Munch's painting The Scream.

The reality of the world was dark and horrifying

He who fears he shall suffer already suffers what he fears.

Cô Ä'Æ¡n chính là má»™t l?i nguy?n Ä'è lên mày ngá»™p th?, má»™t bi?n c? khi?n mày ch?t Ä'u?i, má»™t sá»± d?n v?t khi?n mày khô héo. Mày Ä'ã b? lo?i ra kh?i m?i ng??i.

We would all be better off dead, useless eaters of the lotus that we are.

No!" His scream was anguished, unbelieving. "No!" Tears flowed down his contorted face as he ran his hands through the fine dust. With a groan which racked his whole being, he fell forward, his face hitting the disintegrated parchment. Time had destroyed the Book—untouched, possibly forgotten, for three hundred centuries. Even the wise and powerful gods who had created it had perished—and now its knowledge followed them into oblivion.

desperation and unhappiness stretch your whole sensibility.