Best 203 quotes in «angst quotes» category

If you needed revenge, you’ve got it. Every minute that I’m with you knowing that you’re not mine is like hydrochloric acid in a razor cut.

I had money...But for some reason, I couldn't go anywhere. Apparently, finding a warm place to belong...Takes something other than money. Several years later, I realized that this "something" other than money...Was also required to enjoy food, to keep yourself neat and tidy, and to mutually respect people. But at the time, I dind't know that.

I just wanted..." Aaron stepped closer. "To kiss you good-bye," he finished for Greg.

I just wonder… Isn’t it better to start as a monster and become a hero? Isn’t that what creates belief? The idea that someone can change?

I knew I was high maintenance and he was obviously going to be the same

I knew this for a fact. Little by little, the ache to see him, to hear him would disappear. Little by little I’d forget how his arms felt, how his fingers felt, how his lips felt..the sound of his voice, the intensity of his gaze, all of it. Trace by trace it would slip from my mind, recede into foggy memory. The painful haze that dulled my present would melt into the past. Maybe not all the way, maybe there would be a few scars. Maybe I'd be different, but I’d be me again. Little by little.

I know my dreams will be of you, and I'm not sure how I'll stay away from you in the morning.

I know I need to face the facts, and remain strong to extricate myself from this hideous situation, but not yet. I figure I’m owed at least one day to indulge my self-pity. One day to wallow in despair. To give into the soul-crunching heart-stomping pain ripping me to shreds on the inside.

I love you," Gavin whispered, slowly breaking the kiss. Still cupping her cheeks, he dipped his head and leaned his forehead against hers. "I want to break the rules with you. Kiss you passionately every day. Make you smile when you're about to cry. I want no regrets with us. I want us to laugh together until we can't breathe and it hurts. No man will ever love you the way I'm going to love you, Emily. You're it. My last. My forever/

I'm inspired by this tumultuous world we live in. Each day is full of angst and conflict and hope. It's a beautiful thing, this vicious, swirling life, and each of us find our truest selves in its earnest insanity. From roses weeping blood of loss, to mountains towering as thrones above us, this is where I find my inspiration. This is the paint brush of my writing.

I’m broken. Fucked up. I feel sick. I can’t breathe. It’s like someone’s snaked their fingers around my heart, capturing it in a crushing grip. It’s Emma. This is her doing. Well, it won’t fucking bleed for her. It won’t bleed for anyone. It’s black. I’m dead inside.

I lowered my mouth to his ear and said, “I think you’re my everything.

I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do," I breathed, trying hard to pretend I wasn't fazed by what just happened. "You weren't listening to me." He stared at me with intensity for several seconds. "That's an interesting way to get my attention.

I'm scared," she said. "Of me?" His voice was full of sorrow. "Of everything.

I'm sick of this. It's like being twelve again, dealing with all this damned drama. I like her. Does she like me? What if she doesn't like me?

Irgendwann ist der Spaß vorbei, und wenn man die Finsternis auf sich zukriechen sieht, hält man sich an allem fest, was hell und glücklich und gut war, als würde das Leben davon abhängen.

I’m with you; it’s only me.

I never said you didn't have a heart. But it would be nice if it beat every now and then.

In the moment where my mind, body and soul are assaulted I know that I'll never be the same ever again. Braxxon has seized me and something tells me he isn't letting me go." Winter

I never claimed to be the Chosen One. That was Qui-Gon. Even the Council doesn’t believe it anymore, so why should you?” "Because I think you believe it,” Obi-Wan said calmly. “I think you know in your heart that you’re meant for something extraordinary.” “And you, Master. What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?” “Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.

I pushed until I felt his [Donovan's] body grow still, the tendons in his neck relaxing. I pushed until I felt the mouth beneath the pillow droop, one last dull groan fading into silence. And I kept pushing, because I couldn't bear to pull the pillow away to see what I'd done. "You're free," I said. I closed my eyes, saw Donovan as he had been. One last smile, then he faded.

Isaac dared not move and she did not stir either, both staring up at the canopy above. If he reached over, if he –no, no. It was better to keep a small shield between them, to preserve the little progress they had made in their standoffish, untested relationship, two strangers forced together under impossible circumstances. The last thing he needed was to push her away, to frighten her, to be the brute she’d taken him for. It had been three weeks since they’d been in this very same position and so much had changed and yet so little. A ridiculous, naïve hope drifted into his head before he found sleep: perhaps one day, a long time from now, they would be friends. He would settle for that, if he could have nothing more. Even though he wanted everything.

I should move away from his touch. But he’s a constant storm in my life, clouding my head, ensuring I make bad decisions. He doesn’t do it on purpose, he knows we’re not good for each other, but there’s something about us that makes us fight back harder, thinking we can overcome it.

I see how it is,” I snapped. “You were all in favor of me breaking the tattoo and thinking on my own—but that’s only okay if it’s convenient for you, huh? Just like your ‘loving from afar’ only works if you don’t have an opportunity to get your hands all over me. And your lips. And . . . stuff.” Adrian rarely got mad, and I wouldn’t quite say he was now. But he was definitely exasperated. “Are you seriously in this much self-denial, Sydney? Like do you actually believe yourself when you say you don’t feel anything? Especially after what’s been happening between us?” “Nothing’s happening between us,” I said automatically. “Physical attraction isn’t the same as love. You of all people should know that.” “Ouch,” he said. His expression hadn’t changed, but I saw hurt in his eyes. I’d wounded him. “Is that what bothers you? My past? That maybe I’m an expert in an area you aren’t?” “One I’m sure you’d just love to educate me in. One more girl to add to your list of conquests.” He was speechless for a few moments and then held up one finger. “First, I don’t have a list.” Another finger, “Second, if I did have a list, I could find someone a hell of lot less frustrating to add to it.” For the third finger, he leaned toward me. “And finally, I know that you know you’re no conquest, so don’t act like you seriously think that. You and I have been through too much together. We’re too close, too connected. I wasn’t that crazy on spirit when I said you’re my flame in the dark. We chase away the shadows around each other. Our backgrounds don’t matter. What we have is bigger than that. I love you, and beneath all that logic, calculation, and superstition, I know you love me too. Running away and fleeing all your problems isn’t going to change that. You’re just going to end up scared and confused.” “I already feel that way,” I said quietly. Adrian moved back and leaned into his seat, looking tired. “Well, that’s the most accurate thing you’ve said so far.” I grabbed the basket and jerked open the car door. Without another word, I stormed off, refusing to look back in case he saw the tears that had inexplicably appeared in my eyes. Only, I wasn’t sure exactly which part of our conversation I was most upset about.

It made sense, Amanda decided. People thrived on the misfortunes of others: her mother was the perfect example of that. Can't see a car accident, she thought, for wanting to climb inside and join in.

It is possible that the artists are sane and the world they are painting is crazy.

It’s of some interest that the lively arts of the millennial U.S.A. treat anhedonia and internal emptiness as hip and cool. It’s maybe the vestiges of the Romantic Weltschmerz, which means world-weariness or hip ennui. Maybe it’s the fact that most of the arts here are produced by world-weary and sophisticated older people and then consumed by younger people who not only consume art but study it for clues on how to be cool, hip–and keep in mind that, for kids and younger people, to be hip and cool is the same as to be admired and accepted and included and so Unalone. Forget so-called peer-pressure. It’s more like peer-hunger. No? We enter a spiritual puberty where we snap to the fact that the great transcendent horror is loneliness, excluded encagement in the self.

I tried very hard not to ponder the horrible irony that I was too ugly to love, and too ugly not to violate.

It was not only colored people who praised John, since they could not, John felt, in any case really know; but white people also said it, in fact had said it first and said it still. It was when John was five years old and in the first grade that he was first noticed; and since he was noticed by an eye altogether alien and impersonal, he began to perceive, in wild uneasiness, his individual existence.

It’s so peaceful. I could go to sleep in here.” His eyes flickered to me once more, and for a dizzying second I wasn’t thinking about sleep or storms but about pressing my lips to his. I gave my head a slight shake and tried to slow my pulse

Love alone means nothing unless you have a tortured heart for it to soothe.

I wish I could run away,” Rudger told Jersey as they both rushed in and out of various patients’ rooms, darting around like little ants. “I can’t leave and be on my own though, not right now, anyway.” “Why?” asked Jersey, waving her flashlight in mid-air. Rudger froze for a second, a regretful haze emanating from his eyes. “It’d break her heart if I left.” “Ain’t that normal? For parents to have mixed feelings about their kids growin’ up?” “Not for me, it isn’t.” Jersey made a pitying face in his direction. “So, you wanna keep bein’ towed around with your mom, livin’ in a gross town like Danvers?” “Is there a choice?” “Yeah, there sure is. You can run away and try to be a whole person before it’s too late, or you can live with mommy dearest forever and turn into Norman Bates.

Living people are a dying breed.

I've even purposely looked for stories full of exactly this kind of angst, because I love the emotion behind it so much.

Mandy, I hardly think this was appropriate, not after… you know… after the funeral we haven’t had the money for any of your weird little games and I was hoping you’d be more mature now that Jud’s gone,” her father had disappointedly added. “How much’d that cake cost you?” “It’s paid for,” Mandy had argued, but her voice had sounded tiny in the harbour wind. “I used the cash from my summer job at Frenchy’s last year and I… it was my birthday, dad!” “You can’t even be normal about this one thing, can you?” her father had complained. Mandy hadn’t cried, she’d only stared back knowingly, her voice shaky. “…I’m normal.

Maar voor diegenen onder ons die door het leven verwond zijn en wier littekens nog niet zijn geheeld, kan het pijnlijk en angstwekkend zijn om zich naar hun binnenste te keren. In zo'n geval is de toegang tot onze innerlijke bron van coherentie geblokkeerd. Zoiets gebeurt meestal als gevolg van een trauma waarbij de emoties zo overweldigend waren dat het emotionele brein en dus het hart niet meer functioneren zoals daarvoor. Dan zijn ze geen kompas meer, maar als een vlag in een wervelwind. Dan is er een andere manier om evenwicht te hervinden, een even verbazingwekkende als effectieve methode, die zijn oorsprong vindt in het mechanisme van de droom: de neuro-emotionele integratie door oogbewegingen.

Manche Namen sind so gefährlich, dass wir es nicht wagen, sie laut auszusprechen oder sie auch nur zu flüstern, aus Angst ihre dunkle Magie zu wecken. Nur Narren fürchten sich nicht vor einem Namen

Love, he thinks, is a lie that people tell each other in order to make the world bearable. He is not up for the lie anymore. And nobody is going to lie to him like that, anyway. He's not even worth a lie.

Manchmal bauen Leute Schutzwälle um sich auf, nicht nur um andere draußen zu halten, sondern auch, um zu sehen, ob sich irgendwer bemüht, sie einzureißen.

Maybe he would see me as weak and stupid. Maybe he was right.

Masken sind eigensinnig. Trägst Du sie nur um einen Tick zu lange, wirst du sie nie wieder vollständig los. Etwas von ihnen bleibt an dir hängen.

Meine Kindheit lauert in mir, wie geballte Fäuste in meinen Händen lauern

Mel rolled her eyes. "You can't live your life based on 'what-ifs,' Liv. And change is inevitable. It's the one thing you can always count on. Stop worrying about what might or not happen and follow your heart. How can you expect to ever be happy if you don't?

Moed is niet het gebrek aan angst, maar het besef dat er iets is wat belangrijker is dan angst.

Mothers! They promise you they'll never get married again, and next thing you know you're a bridesmaid.

Mostly she just missed Vaughn. Missed all those quiet, unspectacular moments that, when added up, showed how entwined their lives had become. And right now, she missed being able to phone him, because it would be so easy to tap in the eleven digits that would put his voice on the line. ‘Grace, about bloody time,’ he’d say, and make it sound like an endearment. But she couldn’t call Vaughn, because she’d left him. Which was a novelty, until Grace remembered that he’d have left her eventually if she hadn’t done it first. She was never the one. She was never even the one before the one. She was the girl who seemed like a good idea at the time, but ultimately was just a phase that people went through. That was the way it had always been. Friends and lovers came and went because there was something about her which repelled them, and she didn’t have a clue what it was. It was a mystery that she couldn’t solve on her own, and there wasn’t a single person in the world who could help . . .

My chest ached, my body speaking a language my head didn't quite understand.

Never again. I’m done. This is the last time I will ever have this feeling.

Name's Braxxon baby and I wanna touch an angel"- Braxxon

Nobody should have to choose between a cold heart and a dead heart.