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Quote by Allene vanOirschot

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Allene vanOirschot

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“Unable to glimpse the divine truth in the destinies of mankind, of people in general, and tormented by my own dark ignorance, I was like a small, utterly helpless child. Feeling that there was something that I had to understand, I writhed impatiently and looked to God for help. And the Lord took pity on my ignorance and was not angry at my temerity but like a mother had compassion on me and was quick to respond. And this not once but over and over again. In like manner He had handled Job who suffered so much and protested so stormily.”

GodTruthDespairJob
Book:On Prayer
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“Frodo stirred. And suddenly his heart went out to Faramir. ‘The storm has burst at last,’ he thought. ‘This great array of spears and swords is going to Osgiliath. Will Faramir get across in time? He guessed it, but did he know the hour? And who can now hold the fords when the King of the Nine Riders comes? And other armies will come. I am too late. All is lost. I tarried on the way. All is lost. Even if my errand is performed, no one will ever know. There will be no one I can tell. It will be in vain.’ Overcome with weakness he wept. And still the host of Morgul crossed the bridge.”

DoubtDespairHumanFrodoFallibilityLotrFaramirThe Two TowersCirith UngolMinas Morgul
Book:The Two Towers
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“I'm there now. Tell me I will succeed. That it's the world blinking out and not me, like the ones I've loved and tried to pull back. Tell me he'll never set the world afire. Tell me so I can finally go to sleep. The woman buried beneath my candle won't let him. She props me up. Sits by my bed. She tells me my state isn't fixed; there is no rope binding my wrists; there is always a window to climb out of. She tells me I can save myself and find a place I love before the world dissolves. She stays, even when I turn cruel and out of phase. I learn to leave. I leave before he sets himself ablaze. The fire in his skin and hair. I can't see it but I know it's happening. I can't see it because I'm already so far away. I'm out of here now, forever.”

DespairDepressionSurvivalAbuseSuicideSelf Destruction
Book:Negative Space
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“He had slowed the melody now to a sad, reflective circle of notes. Behind this basic structure, Elta was piling an increasing weight of harmonies, circling again and again to augment them. He thought it was like the weight of the past, the weight of memory, building and building until it seemed almost unbearable, and yet there was always room for more: another repetition, another variation. The clapping had long since died away and the audience was rapt and silent. Suddenly a clutch of despair squeezed his heart. How would he survive the rest of his long life? He was not yet very old, and yet he felt old. Like the Essa with the gray-streaked hair who had been carried raving off the ship at Avanue, and whose limp and pallid shape he’d tended unconscious until the day she woke to say ‘Minh’ to him in the same rich voice he remembered. “I feel so old, she had said to him once. How will I live the rest of my life? Then, he hadn’t really known what she meant, though he had understood. Now, he both understood and knew.”

LifeAgePainDeathSadnessSorrowDespair
Book:Black Wine
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“He'd never failed at anything. Not like this. And he'd been so stupidly desperate, so stupidly hopeful, that he hadn't believed she'd truly refuse. Until today, when he'd seen her on that rock and known she'd wanted to get up, but watched her shut down the instinct. Watched her clamp that steel will over herself.”

DespairSarah J MaasDesperateHopefulRefusalCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesFailed
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“Only sheer exhaustion could summon the oblivion she craved. Every time they stopped throughout the day, she was so tired, she fell to her knees and dumped the pack. And during the pause in motion, she was so weary she couldn't think about the ruin she'd made of herself, the ruin she'd always been, deep down. No training, no learning about the Valkyries and their Mind-Stilling would help. Nothing would help.”

DespairDepressionSarah J MaasNesta ArcheronNestaExhaustionA Court Of Silver FlamesSelf LoathingSelf HatredRuin
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“No amount of driving her body into the earth would make her good. She knew it. Wondered if he did, too. Wondered if he thought he was trekking out here with her on a fool's errand. Or maybe it was like one of the ancient stories she'd heard as a child: he a wicked queen's huntsman, leading her into the deep wild before caring out her heart. She wished he would. Wished someone would cut out the damned thing from her chest. Wished someone would smother the voice that whispered of every horrible thing she had ever done, every awful thought she'd had, every person she'd failed. She had been born wrong. Had been born with claws and fangs and had never been able to keep from using them, never been able to quell the part of her that roared at betrayal, that could hate and love more violently than anyone ever understood. Elain had been the only one who perhaps grasped it, but now her sister loathed her. She didn't know how to fix it. How to make any of it right. How to stop being this way.”

FailureDespairSarah J MaasCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesSelf LoathingSelf HatredElain Archeron
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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