Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Stephen Fry

Quote by Stephen Fry

“Choking with dry tears and raging, raging, raging at the absolute indifference of nature and the world to the death of love, the death of hope and the death of beauty, I remember sitting on the end of my bed, collecting these pills and capsules together and wondering why, why when I felt I had so much to offer, so much love, such outpourings of love and energy to spend on the world, I was incapable of being offered love, giving it or summoning the energy with which I knew I could transform myself and everything around me.”

Quote by Stephen Fry

Author

Stephen Fry
Stephen Fry

Stephen Fry is a British comedian, writer, actor, and broadcaster, known for his unique sense of humor and intelligence. He is one of the iconic figures in the British comedy scene. Born on August 24, 1957, Fry has been active in television and radio since the 1980s, gaining widespread popularity for his roles in comedy shows like 'Blackadder' and 'Jeeves and Wooster'. He has also appeared in numerous television series, films, and stage plays. more

You May Also Like

“I used many times to touch my own chest and feel, under its asthmatic quiver, the engine of the heart and lungs and blood and feel amazed at what I sensed was the enormity of the power I possessed. Not magical power, but real power. The power simply to go on, the power to endure, that is power enough, but I felt I had also the power to create, to add, to delight, to amaze and to transform.”

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”

“Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet--and here's no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.”

“They all have tired mouths and bright seamless souls. And a longing (as for sin) sometimes haunts their dreams. They are almost all alike; in God's gardens they keep still, like many, many intervals in his might and melody. Only when they spread their wings are they wakers of a wind: as if God with his broad sculptor- hands leafed through the pages in the dark book of the beginning.”