Best 873 quotes in «misery quotes» category

Why are we miserable, when there is music?

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

Ya no se trataba sólo de «¿Puedes?» para empezar el libro. Por primera vez en muchos años, escuchaba aquella pregunta casi cada día y… estaba descubriendo que podía.

You are afraid to let anyone in, but you still leave the door open, hoping someone good will shut the door behind him and throw away the keys.

You are young, and in love," said Primus. "Every young man in your position is the most miserable young man who ever lived.

You know when things get inside you and you can't stop going round and round the same piece of misery.

You are too kind, and I am unused to it. For your own sake, do not stroke my misery. It knows not how to respond, but with a vicious bite.

You have endured so much misery. If you take note of that, even then moha (infatuation due to illusion) will go away. And yet it does not go away, and keeps making you endure the misery.

You can cross the shore without getting wet, but you can't get through life without tears.

You Mabden seem to think that happiness must be bought with misery... It is not easy for Vadhagh to understand that. We believe -- believed -- that happiness was a natural condition of reasoning beings.

You're back where you swore yourself you wouldn't be The familiar shackles you can't tell from your own skin Your head's under water when you learned to swim On a road to hell, congratulations, you're free...

You need to keep hurting until you realise you never needed to hurt in the first place.

You're like a man who loves nothing better than a thick steak but wouldn't last an hour in a slaughterhouse.

You my friend, are the only being who can become, nay, who are, the only real, living messiah on earth, to make real impact upon the lives that are infested with the ever-darkening darkness of hopelessness.

You’re innocent until proven guilty,” Mandy exclaimed, unable to hide her gleeful smile. She missed the way people used to have normal conversations, used to be more caring for each other than themselves, back in the Seventies and Eighties. These days, she realized, neighbors kept to themselves, their kids kept to themselves, nobody talked to each other anymore. They went to work, went shopping and shut themselves up at home in front of glowing computer screens and cellphones… but maybe the nostalgic, better times in her life would stay buried, maybe the world would never be what it was. In the 21st century music was bad, movies were bad, society was failing and there were very few intelligent people left who missed the way things used to be… maybe though, Mandy could change things. Thinking back to the old home movies in her basement, she recalled what Alecto had told her. “We wanted more than anything else in the world to be normal, but we failed.” The 1960’s and 1970’s were very strange times, but Mandy missed it all, she missed the days when Super-8 was the popular film type, when music had lyrics that made you think, when movies had powerful meanings instead of bad comedy and when people would just walk to a friend’s house for the afternoon instead of texting in bed all day. She missed soda fountains and department stores and non-biodegradable plastic grocery bags, she wished cellphones, bad pop music and LED lights didn’t exist… she hated how everything had a diagnosis or pill now, how people who didn’t fit in with modern, lazy society were just prescribed medications without a second thought… she hated how old, reliable cars were replaced with cheap hybrid vehicles… she hated how everything could be done online, so that people could just ignore each other… the world was becoming much more convenient, but at the same time, less human, and her teenage life was considered nostalgic history now. Hanging her head low, avoiding the slightly confused stare of the cab driver through the rear view mirror, she started crying uncontrollably, her tears soaking the collar of her coat as the sun blared through the windows in a warm light.

You see, I'm not mad, I suffer from depression. It's not like ordinary misery. It's like dying of boredom. It's black.

You see, Mersualt, all the misery and cruelty of our civilisation can be measured by this one stupid axiom: happy nations have no history.

Your soul has the innate potential to become the antidote to all the darkness in the world.

You talk of freedom — I've never had it! I've been lonely and miserable and in despair, and you want me to consent to all that all over again!

You will be remembered more for your bangs in life, than the bling.

Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery.

Ah how shameless – the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone they say come all their miseries yes but they themselves with their own reckless ways compound their pains beyond their proper share.

All pleasures contain an element of sadness.

All of our miseries prove our greatness. They are the miseries of a dethroned monarch.

All misery and pain come from attachment.

Amour is the one human activity of any importance in which laughter and pleasure preponderate, if ever so slightly, over misery and pain.

All the miseries of mankind come from one thing, not knowing how to remain alone.

A lot of guys come up talking about The Waterboy. I get a lot of that. Misery, Delores Claiborne and The Waterboy, those are the main ones I get.

And as we are - the world is. That is, if we are greedy, envious, competitive, our society will be competitive, envious, greedy, which brings misery and war. The State is what we are.

And it may be that love sometimes occurs without pain or misery.

And bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances and the public show.

Anger and just rebuke, and judgment given, That brought into this world a world of woe, Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery, Death's harbinger.

Anxiety is the poison of human life; the parent of many sins and of more miseries.

A person who's happy will make others happy; a person who has courage and faith will never die in misery

As long as you can savor the humorous aspect of misery and misfortune, you can overcome anything.

... as a rule of thumb, whenever there appears a plural, correct for a singular. Should I ever let slip a royal WE, put me out of my misery with a swift blow to the head.

As far as the physical miseries go, I am sure I will cope. I lived at Eton in the 1950s and I know all about life in uncomfortable quarters.

As mercy is God's goodness confronting human misery and guilt, so grace is his goodness directed toward human debt and demerit.

A soul that is reluctant to share does not as a rule have much of its own. Miserliness is here a symptom of meagerness.

At a certain stage of misery, you'll try anything to explain what's going on with you, even if you know it doesn't explain a thing and it's one failed explanation after another.

As peace is of all goodness, so war is an emblem, a hieroglyphic, of all misery.