Best 873 quotes in «misery quotes» category

West couldn't simply leave the man like this, he didn't have it in him. "Goodman Heath," he said as he approached, and the peasant looked up at him, surprised. He fumbled for his hat and made to rise, muttering apologies. "No, please, don't get up." West sat down on the bench. He stared at his feet, unable to look the man in the eye. There was an awkward silence. "I have a friend who sits on the Commission for Land and Agriculture. There might be something he can do for you…" He trailed off, embarrassed, squinting up the corridor. The farmer gave a sad smile. "I'd be right grateful for anything you could do." "Yes, yes, of course, I'll do what I can." It would do no good whatsoever, and they both knew it. West grimaced and bit his lip. "You'd better take this," and he pressed his purse into the peasant's limp, calloused fingers. Heath looked at him, mouth slightly open. West gave a quick, awkward smile then got to his feet. He was very keen to be off. "Sir!" called Goodman Heath after him, but West was already hurrying down the corridor, and he didn't look back.

What are the miseries in this world, due to? They exist because one’s “vision” is not “clear”.

What came first _ the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music?

What do you think all of us are here for? Certainly not to seek happiness. We are not here to enjoy. We are here to feel. Experiencing emotions is what human minds are made for. Emotions of every kind. A full gamut. A life spent on experiencing sentiments that lie at only one side of the spectrum is no life at all. We shouldn’t avoid grief. Instead, we should welcome despair in our lives with open arms. For it makes us who we are. It makes us complete.

What is considered moksha of the Vitraags [the enlightened ones]? It is where despite having a physical body, pain does not touch him, hence even worldly happiness does not affect him. The natural happiness keeps arising from within.

What is nature like? It does not allow any living being to do what it wants even to the slightest extent. But the one through whom no-one is hurt even to the slightest extent, be it through mind, speech or conduct, nature gives such a person all the authority to do what they want.

What is there in our nature that is for ever urging us on towards pain and misery?

What is the definition of ‘remaining untouched in the worldly life’? It means that one finds pleasure upon seeing something nice, but he is not to stuck there; he should move on. Then a cactus will appeal to him and a rose will appeal to him. But the world gets stuck there. Getting stuck itself is the pain!

What rent do you pay here?" I inquired. "I don’t know,—what is it, Sam?" "All we make," answered Sam. It is a depressing place,—bare, unshaded, with no charm of past association, only a memory of forced human toil,—now, then, and before the war. They are not happy, these black men whom we meet throughout this region. There is little of the joyous abandon and playfulness which we are wont to associate with the plantation Negro.

When a fine old carpet is eaten by mice, the colors and patterns of what's left behind do not change,' wrote my neighbor and friend, the poet Jane Hirschfield, after she visited an old friend suffering from Alzheimer's disease in a nursing home. And so it was with my father. His mind did not melt evenly into undistinguishable lumps, like a dissolving sand castle. It was ravaged selectively, like Tintern Abbey, the Cistercian monastery in northern Wales suppressed in 1531 by King Henry VIII in his split with the Church of Rome. Tintern was turned over to a nobleman, its stained-glass windows smashed, its roof tiles taken up and relaid in village houses. Holy artifacts were sold to passing tourists. Religious statues turned up in nearby gardens. At least one interior wall was dismantled to build a pigsty. I've seen photographs of the remains that inspired Wordsworth: a Gothic skeleton, soaring and roofless, in a green hilly landscape. Grass grows in the transept. The vanished roof lets in light. The delicate stone tracery of its slim, arched quatrefoil windows opens onto green pastures where black-and-white cows graze. Its shape is beautiful, formal, and mysterious. After he developed dementia, my father was no longer useful to anybody. But in the shelter of his broken walls, my mother learned to balance her checkbook, and my heart melted and opened. Never would I wish upon my father the misery of his final years. But he was sacred in his ruin, and I took from it the shards that still sustain me.

When Annie's treatin, you best be eatin.

Whenever there is an uprising of misery, discrimination and sectarianism - whenever there is an upheaval in human dignity, goodness, unity and uniformity - whenever the primitive urge for judgement overwhelms the humane quality of understanding - whenever the light of truth begins to scare the people more than the darkness of ignorance, and whenever humankind begins to forget its innate humanity, I shall rise from the deepest fathoms of the neuronal galaxy in one brain or another, over and over again, to take humanity with me in the path of sweet, innocent, self-aware, non-conflicting and progressive harmony.

When I left, they were stuck with the burden of finding someone else to blame for their life... Pointing their anger everywhere, but never looking in the mirror... Continuing the cycle that led to their misery.

When he came home early, he was dreary. There, he'd sit by the fireplace, his worn hands gripping the newspaper a bit too tight, his eyes held to it, unseeing, towards the words, the meaningless grouping of letters on that newspaper. The fire would cackle, sizzle, full of life, so opposite to this man, whose face was crossed with the burdens of the world, and lips pressed thing under that bushy mustache. His grief sat on him like a cloud, sending him into a dimension that left his eyes two empty coals, his chest an impossible storm. He spoke to no one, and hardly did anyone speak to him, because words were never something he was good at. Then, when the sky darkened, he's stand, and trudge to his room, where his bed waited, cold and hungry, just as he'd always known it to be.

Whenever you’ll open your eyes, you will find nothing but ugliness and misery all around you. Everything looks fine when you are in an unconscious state. This is the reason why you find it difficult to conceive: CONSCIOUSNESS IS THE BEING. You say, ”Impossible!” That’s why one needs to go through pain. That is called tapascharya, spiritual practice. Whenever one begins to become aware, first he will have to go through suffering. For lives you have created misery around you, who else would pass through it if not you? That is what we have called the karma.

When it becomes above normal, the happiness derived from pudgal (non-Self) feels like misery.

When it becomes above normal, material happiness will feel like misery.

When misery overwhelms us, it often overflows onto close relationships.

When men set out to create order, they create only misery.

When one becomes engrossed with the mind, there will be happiness and there will be misery too. And when there is no engrossment in either of the two, there will be ultimate bliss.

When one becomes ‘above normal’ or ‘below normal’ in circumstances; it is called a vishaya (involvement in worldly subjects and sense pleasures).

When people get rich, they shed their skin-in-the-game-driven experiential mechanism. They lose control of their preferences, substituting constructed preferences for their own, complicating their lives unnecessarily, triggering their own misery.

When we are grappling with misery and our heart is in a knot, we may well do better to snap back to a new reality, make choices, refine and consolidate our self-image; and remodel the mould of our identity. ("Camera obscura of the mind" )

When that bastard calls back, you tell him he’s won this round. I’ll marry him. But I don’t take well to being blackmailed, and tell him I intend to spend the rest of my life making him miserable, got that?

... when she called to mind all this utter and crushing misery that had come upon my aunts' old music-master, she was moved to very real grief, and shuddered to think of that other grief, so different in its bitterness, which Mlle. Vinteuil must now be feeling, tinged with remorse at having virtually killed her father.

When set out to create order, they create only misery.

When the rich and the powerful rise they leave the powerless and the poor without possibility.

When we oppose oppression, we lift our hands from the collective reins that empower such oppression.

When your options are limited to being miserable in private or being mortified in public, there is no choice.

When Your Smile At Someone's Misery, Its Does Not Shows Your Tolerance. Its Reveals lack of Tears For Feeling.

When you feel unsatisfied in your life, you must immediately take action to change your perspective, thoughts, and activity. If you stay longer than necessary in your unhappy state you will find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into misery. Fortunately, no matter how deep you fall into dissatisfaction you will always be able to change your life for the better through positive action.

Where there is doubt (shanka), there is misery. The moment one begins to doubt the knowledge that, 'I am Chandubhai,' misery arises. Once one attains the Knowledge that, 'I am pure Soul,' one become doubtfree (nishank), thus misery leaves.

Wherever moha (infatuation due to illusion) is involved, there is misery there.

Where there is not the slightest of misery; that is where the Soul is.

Whether you choose to move on from your struggles and enjoy life or waddle in your misery, life will continue.

Where the slightest pain cannot be felt, the Soul exists there.

Who is the Lord become pleased with? It is with the one who takes on everyone’s miseries and gives happiness to others.

Whoever said misery loves company was full of shite. Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, however... that guy was onto something.

Whom can you consider as God? It is he who has become completely independent in this world and he does not have anyone above [superior] him, he is God. When one cannot even see his dependency, how can he realize his own independence?

Why do we value most precisely those things we haven't got?

Why are we miserable, when there is music?

Why do we have different races, different colors, when we are all from the same source.

With each drop of tear that we shed in our times of excruciating pain, our brain constructs majestic new cellular connections to aid in the pursuit of our passion - in the pursuit of truth.

Why wait to forgive and let go only after you have sufficiently wallowed in your despair? Why not forgive and let go now?

With certainty, I can predict that there will never be a cure to cancer. The only hope for any of us is to concentrate on cause and prevent the misery.

Without faith and hope, how could we have survived life?

With the love of music, there will be no misery in life.

Women invented misery, but we don't understand it.

With time to think, the full reality of what had happened hit Thomas like a falling boulder. Ever since Thomas had entered the Maze, Newt had been there for him. Thomas hadn’t realized just how much of a friend he’d become until now. His heart hurt. He tried to remind himself that Newt wasn’t dead. But in some ways this was worse. In most ways. He’d fallen down the slope of insanity, and he was surrounded by bloodthirsty Cranks. And the prospect of never seeing him again was almost unbearable. [...] He pulled the envelope out of his pocket and ripped it open, then took out the slip of paper. The soft lights that ringed the mirror lit up the message in a warm glow. It was two short sentences: Kill me. If you’ve ever been my friend, kill me. Thomas read it over and over, wishing the words would change. To think that his friend had been so scared that he’d had the foresight to write those words made him sick to his stomach. And he remembered how angry Newt had been at Thomas specifically when they’d found him in the bowling alley. He’d just wanted to avoid the inevitable fate of becoming a Crank. And Thomas had failed him. [...] “Newt suddenly twisted around and grabbed Thomas by the hand holding the gun. He yanked it toward himself, forcing it up until the end of the pistol was pressed against his own forehead. “Now make amends! Kill me before I become one of those cannibal monsters! Kill me! I trusted you with the note! No one else. Now do it!” Thomas tried to pull his hand away, but Newt was too strong. “I can’t, Newt, I can’t.” “Make amends! Repent for what you did!” The words tore out of him, his whole body trembling. Then his voice dropped to an urgent, harsh whisper. “Kill me, you shuck coward. Prove you can do the right thing. Put me out of my misery.” The words horrified Thomas. “Newt, maybe we can—” “Shut up! Just shut up! I trusted you! Now do it!” “I can’t.” “Do it!” “I can’t!” How could Newt ask him to do something like this? How could he possibly kill one of his best friends? “Kill me or I’ll kill you. Kill me! Do it!” “Newt …” “Do it before I become one of them!” “I …” “KILL ME!” And then Newt’s eyes cleared, as if he’d gained one last trembling gasp of sanity, and his voice softened. “Please, Tommy. Please.” With his heart falling into a black abyss, Thomas pulled the trigger.

Woman is not at fault, sex is not at fault; the fault is in your tendencies [vruti]. The tendencies indeed interfere and cause misery.