Best 1597 quotes in «despair quotes» category

I accept this award today with an abiding faith in America and an audacious faith in the future of mankind. I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the "isness" of man's present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal "oughtness" that forever confronts him. I refuse to accept the idea that man is mere flotsom and jetsom in the river of life, unable to influence the unfolding events which surround him. I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality.

I admire successful men and women who endured and overcome unusual circumstances to fulfill their dreams.

I always thought it was pathetic that Reva had chosen to stay in the area after graduation, but passing through it in the cab, in my frenzied state of despair, I understood: there was stability in living in the past.

I am afraid a monster is grown that will devour all of us. Yet we must fight him.

I am a strong woman, I can endure it all.

I am Broken single mother Disconnected lover Slow motion dresser Dark secret confessor White flag trend Professional dead end

I am like a ruined piece of parchment scrawled over and over again with your name, so many times it has become illegible.

I am most valuable bill in his wallet, But a torn bill…

I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems; Even the dearest that I loved the best Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.

I barely managed to do the small talk—the what-do-you-do, the where-are-you-from, the what-neighborhood, the what-college, the despair of trying to explain oneself.

I cannot do it. I cannot bear it. I cannot go back to what I was here. I cannot stand at her side and watch another take her. I am not that strong or that good.

I can see death and more death, till we are black and swollen with death.

I can still hear the screams. They wake me in the night. Terrible, gut wrenching, painful screams; screams that can only come from the deepest and darkest recesses of the mind. These were not screams of pain. These were screams of years of sorrow and despair. These were screams that made your skin crawl. These were the worst screams I have ever heard. I cannot get them out of my head. Perhaps, they will be with me forever. I shouldn't be so lucky.

I carry my burdens to the Lord. He lightens the weight on my shoulders.

I cried to the Lord. He heard my tears of prayer, from His holy hill.

Idealizing life is surely quite unrealistic, however, it is much better than living in constant despair.

...I deliberately spilled the black ink of despair because my perfect soul was a stained glass illusion - can you understand that?...

I decided that if I didn't allow myself to fall asleep, then I wouldn't have to wake up again and despair.

I don't know why we take our worst moods so much more seriously than our best, crediting depression with more clarity than euphoria. We dismiss peak moments and passionate love affairs as an ephemeral chemical buzz, just endorphins or hormones, but accept those 3 a.m. bouts of despair as unsentimental insights into the truth about our lives.

I do not like the situation but must endure to fulfil the dream.

I dream for an absentee and oft maligned device—the accident-maker, the soul-taker, my camera; its factory guaranteed third eye, without which I am duly dim and memory denied. No pictures for my contrived Arbus to declare, excepting some stitch of Sexton manages these sentences of despair.

I drew a deep breath, trying to think of something to say, then pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and gave it to him. "Are you breathing, Ian?" His mouth twitched a little. "Aye, I think so." "That's all you have to do, for now.

I drew a deep breath, trying to think of something to say, then pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and gave it to him. "Are you breathing, Ian?" His mouth twitched a little. "Aye, I htink so." "That's all you have to do, for now.

I drink to our ruined house, to the dolor of my life, to our loneliness together; and to you I raise my glass, to lying lips that have betrayed us, to dead-cold pitiless eyes, and to the hard realities; that the world is brutal and coarse, that God, in fact, has not saved us.

If a person hasn't ever experienced true despair, she grows old never knowing how to evaluate where she is in life; never understanding what joy really is.

If Chase's wings are broken, then mine are shattered.

I felt as though my mind and heart had been dragged through a thicket of rose bushes and caught on every little thorn.

If Gissing is less compassionately observant than Mrs Gaskell, less overtly polemical than Kingsley, still The Nether World and Demos would be sympathetically endorsed by either of them, or by their typical readers. Yet Gissing does introduce an important new element, and one that remains significant. He has often been called ‘the spokesman of despair,’ and this is true in both meanings of the phrase. Like Kingsley and Mrs Gaskell, he writes to describe the true conditions of the poor, and to protest against those brute forces of society which fill with wreck the abysses of the nether world. Yet he is also the spokesman of another kind of despair: the despair born of social and political disillusion. In this he is a figure exactly like Orwell in our own day, and for much the same reason. Whether one calls this honesty or not will depend on experience.

I felt as though the vessel if my suffering had become empty, as if nothing could interest me now. I had lost even the ability to suffer.

If I had known what trouble you were bearing; What griefs were in the silence of your face; I would have been more gentle, and more caring, And tried to give you gladness for a space. I would have brought more warmth into the place, If I had known. If I had known what thoughts despairing drew you; (Why do we never try to understand?) I would have lent a little friendship to you, And slipped my hand within your hand, And made your stay more pleasant in the land, If I had known.

If seeds despaired in their darkest hours, they would never rise to enjoy their brightest days.

If she allowed herself to give in to the whole sadness of it, she'd never ever be able to operate like a normal person again.

If we focus on the problems of life, we will be paralysed. But we dwell on the promise of God; we find the faith, hope and courage to survive life.

If something negative comes to the surface, such as your despair and anger, or the despair and anger of your spouse, you need the energy of mindfulness to embrace it. Breathing in, I know that anger is there in me. Breathing out, I care for my anger. This is like a mother hearing her baby cry out. She is in the kitchen, and she hears her baby wailing. She puts down whatever she has in her hands, goes into the baby's room, and picks it up in her arms. You can do exactly the same thing--embrace the pain that is coming to the surface. Breathing in, I know that you are there, my dear anger, my dear despair. I am there for you; I will take care of you.

If you are in a pit of stress or despair, don’t succumb to defeat. Don’t accept that difficult place as your fate. Even though God has allowed you to be there right now, he never intended for you to live there. Our God is bigger then whatever problem you are facing. The only way to see past the problem is to believe that he has not forgotten or abandoned you and that, at the exact time that he has ordained, he will reach down and pick you up.

If you read stories, you find the strength, faith and hope to survive everyday life.

If you feel irritation or depression or despair, recognize their presence and practice this mantra: "Dear one, I am here for you." You should talk to your depression or your anger as you would to a child. You embrace it tenderly with the energy of mindfulness and say, "Dear one, I know you are there, and I am going to take care of you," just as you would with your crying baby.

If you response to every demand, you will be in despair.

If you can cope the pride when winning, then you can confront despair when lose.

If you focus on bitterness, you destroy your life.

If your mind can move mountains and swallow gods, Why does it worry with helpless yesterdays and unborn tomorrows? If it can vomit stars and walk on split hairs, Why must it follow the same path to despair? Everyone will tell you: 'An orgasm here is just as good.

If you want my address, it’s number one at the end of the bar, where I sit with the broken angels, clutching at straws and nursing their scars.

I have experienced deep despair, mental-ill health and attempt of suicide.

I had come to understand that despair does not necessarily result in annihilation, that one can go on as usual despite of it...

I have always believed there is a comfort to be found in despair: namely, from the knowledge that, like a pendulum at its extreme, one is simply gathering momentum for the reversal, the plunge back toward a mood of possiblity. If happiness can be tempered by the knowledge that it won't last, then surely the opposite is also true.

I have hated you in every hour that has gone by, I hate you so that I would happily give my life for your death, and happily go to my own doom if only I could witness yours, take you with me into the depths. When I let this hate free, I am almost overcome by it, but I cannot change this and do not really know how it could be otherwise. Let no one deprecate this, nor fool himself about the power of such hatred. Hate drives to reality. Hate is the father of the action. The way out of our defiled and desecrated house is through the command to hate Satan. Only so will be earn the right to search in the darkness for the way of love. In our hatred, we are like bees who must pay with their lives for the use of their stingers.

I have heard that you should not do bed business after too much hard work, " Snow Flower told me, "but I don't believe that my mother-in-law has heard that." She looked exhausted. I felt the same way after visiting my husband's home-from the nonstop labor, from being polite, and from always being watched. "This is the one rule my mother-in-law doesn't respect either," I commiserated. "Haven't they heard an exhausted well yields no water?

I have sought so much Your being Behind everything I knew In the new Beginnings, And the fearful mornings, When anxiety and hope Live side by side And that My shadow Only aspires to lie With your shadow.

I had wanted to disappear, if only so the cancer could disappear with me. But the stars whispered that there was no such thing. You don’t ever disappear. You just change. You leave. You move on. But you never disappear. Even when you think you want to.

I have become my own island state. A ravaged, war-torn land where nothing grows and the horizons are bleak. ~Anastasia