Quotes About Tragedy

Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him. His mother's face, his First Communion, women he had known. The faces of men as they died on their knees before him. The body of a child dead in a roadside ravine in another country.

And if the dried and blackened shell of him is found among the sands by travelers to come yet who can discover the engine of his ruin?

What if a whole goddamned building was to just up and sink? What about two or three buildings? What about a whole block? Harrogate was waving his bottle about. Goddamn, he said. What if the whole fuckin city was to cave in? That's the spirit, said Suttree.

This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair.

Eine Katastrophe kann durch noch so viel Gutes nicht ausgelöscht werden. Sondern nur durch eine noch schlimmere Katastrophe.

Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him

He had been shot through the head with a .32 caliber pistol and he was twenty-one years old forever.

How ridiculous that water ran out of your eyes when your heart hurt. Tragic heroines in books tended to be amazingly beautiful. Not a word about swollen eyes or a red nose. Crying always gives me a red nose, thought Elinor. I expect that's why I'll never be in any book.

Wie es so schoen bei Shakespeare heisst: "Jeder spielt seine Rolle, und meine ist eine traurige.

Look. (Grown-ups skip this paragraph.) I'm not about to tell you this book has a tragic ending, I already said in the very first line how it was my favorite in all the world. But there's a lot of bad stuff coming. William Goldman, The Princess Bride

Ofelia could still hear Mercedes crying while the blood of the dying girl in her arms was dripping down into the well. She recognized the lullaby Mercedes hummed. And then... Ofelia smiled - oh, so faintly - and then could hear no more. And Mercedes bent over the dead girl and sobbed until the dark hard was wet with her tears.

Ofelia could still hear Mercedes crying while the blood of the dying girl in her arms was dripping down into the well. She recognized the lullaby Mercedes hummed. And then... Ofelia smiled - oh, so faintly - and then could hear no more. And Mercedes bent over the dead girl and sobbed until the dark hair was wet with her tears.

That's the tragedy of the commons? A fairy tale about giving public assets to rich people to run as personal empires because that way they'll make sure they're better managed than they would be if we just made up some rules?

Moreover, he successively buried three wives;

She resembled Anna Karenina, the kind of woman that if you want to kill, you have to hit with a train.

Finally, one would have to put all this information together to shape a continuum, a narrative in which the House of Bush and the House of Saud dominated the world stage together in one era after another. Having done so, one would come to a singular inescapable conclusion: namely, that, horrifying as it sounds, the secret relationship between these two great families helped to trigger the Age of Terror and give rise to the tragedy of 9/11.

She did not at the bottom believe she ever would have him. She did not believe in herself primarily: doubted whether she could ever be what he would demand of her. Certainly she never saw herself living happily through a lifetime with him. She saw tragedy, sorrow, and sacrifice ahead.

Good God, what does it matter? If life is a tragedy, or a farce, or a disaster, or anything else, what do I care! Let life be what it likes. Give me a drink, that's what I want just now.

Bitter criticism caused the sensitive Thomas Hardy, one of the finest novelists ever to enrich English literature, to give up forever the writing of fiction. Criticism drove Thomas Chatterton, the English poet, to suicide.

And herein lies the tragedy of the age: not that men are poor,—all men know something of poverty; not that men are wicked,—who is good? not that men are ignorant,—what is Truth? Nay, but that men know so little of men.

Only in the chamber of death writhed the world's most piteous thing—a childless mother.

And herein lies the tragedy of the age: not that men are poor,—all men know something of poverty; not that men are wicked,—who is good? not that men are ignorant,—what is Truth? Nay, but that men know so little of men. He

herein lies the tragedy of the age: not that men are poor,—all men know something of poverty; not that men are wicked,—who is good? not that men are ignorant,—what is Truth? Nay, but that men know so little of men.

Once I asked Ma who'd taken the picture, but she couldn't remember. Maybe Ma's death took it, I thought. Maybe it was laughing back at her, knowing everything that would happen, as she posed in happy ignorance. In Ma's young face there was no trace that Anthony Jr. would strangle himself inside her. That her husband would leave, that her daughter would become me.