Quotes About Anguish

I'm sick of the images trapped in my headI'm sick of being preoccupied with the dead

Only those who still have hope can benefit from tears. When they finish, they feel better. But to those without hope, whose anguish is basic and permanent, no good comes from crying. Nothing changes for them. They usually know this, but still can't help crying.

Mr. Hooper spent a long life, irreproachable in outward act, yet shrouded in dismal suspicions; kind and loving, though unloved, and dimly feared; a man apart from men, shunned in their health and joy, but ever summoned to their aid in mortal anguish.

that the sufferer should never know the intensity of what he endures by its present torture, but chiefly by the pang that rankles after it.

I have wrenched and torn an idea out of my miserable brain, or rather, the fragment of an idea, like a tooth ill-drawn and leaving the roots to torture me.

The pain of knowing is killing me more than killing me would kill me, so I jump just to end it.

He does not see . . . because his eyes are shut too tightly to know anything beyond his own anguish.

But Greyson Tolliver does not know. He does not see … because his eyes are shut too tightly to know anything beyond his own anguish.

He cannot deny how much he loves her - and the pain of that longing is enough to make him know that he lives. That he is. For how could he feel such anguish if he had no soul? Yet in many ways he feels as if she took his soul with her when she left.

We have just entered the worst of all possible worlds.

I am the wound and the blade, the torturer and the flayed.

Ange plein de gaieté, connaissez-vous l'angoisse, La honte, les remords, les sanglots, les ennuis, Et les vagues terreurs de ces affreuses nuits Qui compriment le coeur comme un papier qu'on froisse? Ange plein de gaieté, connaissez-vous l'angoisse?

All dark, all bloody, my heart

Angel full of gaiety, do you know anguish?   Angel

Et de longs corbillards, sans tambours ni musique, Défilent lentement dans mon âme ; l'Espoir, Vaincu, pleure, et l'Angoisse atroce, despotique, Sur mon crâne incliné plante son drapeau noir.

I'm the vampire of my own heart— One of those utter derelicts Condemned to eternal laughter, But who can no longer smile!

Yo sé que el dolor es la nobleza única

Elin bayg?n göÄŸsümde geziyor; aray???n BoÅŸ, sevgilim, oras? yaÄŸmalanm?? bir yerdi Y?rt?c? diÅŸleri, t?rnaklar?yla kad?n?n. Aramay?n yüreÄŸimi art?k; hayvanlar yedi. YüreÄŸim y?k?k bir saray kalabal?klar?ndan; Ä°çmeler, adam öldürmeler, kavgalar dolu! - Bir korku yüzüyor ç?plak göÄŸsünüzü saran!..

Quando ho riaperto gli occhi pieni di fuoco,ho visto l'orrore del buco in cui vivo e,rientrato in me stesso, ho sentito il pungolo delle preoccupazioni; l'orologio a pendolo dai funebri accenti crudelmente suonava mezzogiorno, e il cielo riversava oscurità sul tristte mondo intirizzito

Et le ver rongera ta peau comme un remords.

It wasn't my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. God damn it.

each man's hell is in a different place: mine is just up and behind my ruined face.

To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you; you're frightened out of your wits, can't sit still, move, or even go decently insane.

Why do you insist upon destroying yourself?