Quotessence
Home / Topics / Anguish Quotes

Anguish Quotes

Browse 547 quotes about Anguish.

Related topics

Anguish Quotes

“What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? (Just to give you an idea, Proust's reply was 'To be separated from Mama.') I think that the lowest depth of misery ought to be distinguished from the highest pitch of anguish. In the lower depths come enforced idleness, sexual boredom, and/or impotence. At the highest pitch, the death of a friend or even the fear of the death of a child.”

“As if to banish the terror and pain already screaming through his body, he shook his head, backing away. “No!” he whispered, and then his voice rose to a tormented shout. “No, damn you! Don’t tell me that—!” “Jason—” “Don’t you dare tell me that!” he shouted in agony. Mike Farrell spoke, but he turned his head away from the unbearable torment on the other man’s ravaged face. “Her horse threw her off the ridge into the river, about four miles from here. O’Malley went in after her, but he couldn’t find her. He—” “Get out,” Jason whispered. “I’m sorry, Jason. Sorrier than I can say.” “Get out!” When Mike Farrell left, Jason stretched his hand toward Victoria’s cloak, his fingers slowly closing on the wet wool, pulling it toward him. The muscles at the base of his throat worked convulsively as he brought the sodden cloak to his chest, stroking it lovingly with his hand, and then he buried his face in it, rubbing it against his cheek. Waves of agonizing pain exploded through his entire being, and the tears he had thought he was incapable of shedding fell from his eyes. “No,” he sobbed in demented anguish. And then he screamed it.”

“Passion sits on the skull Of Humanity, And this infidel enthroned Laughs shamelessly, And gaily blows round bubbles That will fly, As if to join with worlds Deep in the sky. Rising on high, the frail Luminous globe, Shatters and bursts its slim soul Like a dream of gold. I hear at each bubble, the skull Moan and contend: 'This vicious, ridiculous game, When will it end? What you are blowing away Again and again, You murderous fiend, is my body My blood and my brain!”

“The utter unbroken silence was more appalling than any ominous noise, than the loudest yells of anguish, than the most piercing screaming... Dead silence. Literally dead.”

“I have no more fight left, the will to keep going has been extinguished and I am ready to throw in the towel. Nothing matters anymore, my heart is hollow and I see no hope for a better tomorrow. There's nothing that can lighten this heavy burden of despair - it is all too much, and it feels as if there is no end in sight.”

“There is no time in what you are going through. Your suffering is a place, and you don't know whether you can ever leave this place. You don't even have enough hope to wish that it be over faster. Faster doesn't exist, any more than time itself. You are not alive enough to measure it. You live in a present of incessant pain.”

“There is a faltering scream, or something that sounds like a scream. There is a sound that I cannot or have never been able to identify: a sound that's not human or is more than human, the sound of lives being extinguished but also the sound of material things breaking. It's the sound of things falling from on high, an interrupted and somehow also eternal sound, a sound that didn't ever end, that kept ringing in my head from that very afternoon and still shows no sign of wanting to leave it, that is forever suspended in my memory, hanging in it like a towel on a hook. That sound is the last thing heard in the cockpit of Flight 965.”

“No one wants to occupy a black hole of sadness and despair or slip on the tight rope that separates sanity from insanity, and reside in a vortex devoid of reality. I entered the world as a freeman and desire to escape a state of existential vertigo. I yearn to discover a synthesizing spirit of my being and hold my head high, free of doubt, and devoid of fear. I wish to foment the cerebral energy to stave off premature destruction and forevermore blunt an intolerable state of anguish.”

“So that you will hear me my words sometimes grow thin as the tracks of the gulls on the beaches. Necklace, drunken bell for your hands smooth as grapes. And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy. It climbs the same way on damp walls. You are to blame for this cruel sport. They are fleeing from my dark lair. You fill everything, you fill everything. Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy, and they are more used to my sadness than you are. Now I want them to say what I want to say to you to make you hear as I want you to hear me. The wind of anguish still hauls on them as usual. Sometimes hurricanes of dreams still knock them over. You listen to other voices in my painful voice. Lament of old mouths, blood of old supplications. Love me, companion. Don't forsake me. Follow me. Follow me, companion, on this wave of anguish. But my words become stained with your love. You occupy everything, you occupy everything. I am making them into an endless necklace for your white hands, smooth as grapes.”

“I’m just trying to live my life, but it seems as if sadness always piles itself up around me. It’s in my bed, the toothbrush in my bathroom, and the memory of my cellphone. Over the past few years, I’ve wanted to move on, I’ve wanted to take hold of something I couldn’t reach. What that is, I have no idea. Not knowing where such obsessive thoughts were coming from, I simply drowned myself in my work. Then one day I realized that my heart was withering, and in it there was nothing but pain. And that my beliefs, that I once held so passionately, had completely disappeared.”

“Every unpleasant worldly experience in life exposes our sensitive nervous systems to painful phenomena. Despite all the beer commercial advertisement slogans urging us to live with gusto, life is unavoidably painful. Life is a battering ram that inflicts trauma upon human beings. People blunt the traumatic force of enduring a lifetime of pain, fearfulness, and unremitted anguish and boredom with religion, sex, booze, drugs, fantasy, and other indulgent acts and forms acts of escapism.”

“O all you host of heaven!O Earth! waht else? And shall i couple hell? O Fie! Hold, hold, my heart And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, while memmory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past That youth and observation copied there, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmixed with baser matter; yes, by heaven!”

“The question is not “How am I to find God?” but “How am I to let myself be found by him?”. God is not the patriarch who stays home, doesn’t move, and expects his children to come to him, apologize for their aberrant behavior, beg for forgiveness, and promise to do better. To the contrary, he leaves the house, ignoring his dignity by running toward them, pays no heed to apologies and promises of change, and brings them to the table. When I look through God’s eyes at my lost self and discover God’s joy at my coming home, then my life may become less anguished and more trusting.”

“Will we understand the father’s joy? Will we let the Father embrace us? This is our resistance to living a joyful life. God rejoices. Not because the problems of the world have been solved, not because all human pain and suffering have come to an end, nor because thousands of people have been converted and are now praising him for his goodness. No, God rejoices because one of his children who was lost has been found. It is God’s joy, not the joy that the world offers. It is the joy that comes from seeing a child walk home amid all the destruction, devastation, and anguish of the world. It is a hidden joy.”

“Love is the most divine experience on earth. Love proves that existence is not without meaning. Except for love there is no proof for the significance of life. If one has not experienced love one will feel meaninglessness in life. If one has not experience love one will feel an emptiness in life. One will feel at the mercy of unknown and material forces. That is how materialists look at life.Life is just a combination of matter. and love is a combination of hormones and chemical reactions in the body. But then there is no significance in life, and without significance in life one can only drag through life. There is no song, no dance in life. The existentialist philosophers says that life is meaningless, but they still go on clinging to life. They talk about anguish, fear, anxiety, despair, struggle and death. But nobody  becomes convinced that life is really meaningless, becauselife is not meaningless. Life has intrinsic value, but its has to be discovered. We are intuitively aware that life is not meaningless.  Love gives us proof of it. A lover has no doubts about life's  meaning. It is only through love that people have slowly discovered the ultimate meaning, which is God, the divine. It is only through love that people have  discovered the whole science of meditation, because in loving moment the mind stops. When you are really in love, in those momentsthe past and the future disappears, and the present moment becomes all. That is what meditation is. Love gives you a glimpse of meditation. And through meditation a window opens into the existence of God. That is why love is the most divine  phenomenon on earth. A seeker of truth has to be both a lover and a meditator, because both these qualities support each other. If you love, you will be able to meditate more deeply. If you meditate, you will be able to love more deeply. If you meditate, you will be able to love more totally. Love and meditation help each other. They support each other. The whole man knows both love and meditation. He lives on the earth, but he is part of the sky. And to be whole is to be holy.”

“This is an ode to life. The anthem of the world. For as there are billions of different stars that make up the sky so, too, are there billions of different humans that make up the Earth. Some shine brighter but all are made of the same cosmic dust. O the joy of being in life with all these people! I speak of differences because they are there. Like the different organs that make up our bodies. Earth, itself, is one large body. Listen to how it howls when one human is in misery. When one kills another, the Earth feels the pang in its chest. When one orgasms, the Earth craves a cigarette. Look carefully, these animals are beauty spots that make the Earth’s face lovelier and more loveable. These oceans are the Earth’s limpid eyes. These trees, its hair. This is an ode to life. The anthem of the world. I will no longer speak of differences, for the similarities are larger. Look even closer. There may be distances between our limbs but there are no spaces between our hearts. We long to be one. We long to be in nature and to run wild with its wildlife. Let us celebrate life and living, for it is sacrilegious to be ungrateful. Let us play and be playful, for it is sacrilegious to be serious. Let us celebrate imperfections and make existence proud of us, for tomorrow is death, and this is an ode to life. The anthem of the world.”

“The comedy in our lives was those first few weeks we lived together in Paris: Our bodies desired one another, our souls opened for one another. We experienced all of the happiness and anguish of first love. Those first few weeks in Paris, we barely touched lips; yet the few times we did, it had the force of a collision of stars.”

“Everyone in life has an issue in their life that’s not quite right. Something’s a little out of balance, and issue that we think of often, but afraid to confront this, in fear of the confrontation it might cause, or the drama it could create. Go after this, and clear your mind. The confrontation won’t last forever. The possible drama will fade. It’s better than wearing this every single day of your life. We have one life. A few days of conflict is better than a lifetime of emotional anguish.”

“A life of hardship and personal suffering is unavoidable. A person must endure many humiliations of the mind and body, and expect persons whom they trusted to someday betray them. People inevitably witness the death of their loved ones. We also witness acts of depravity committed by criminals that lurk in every society and rouge acts of scandal committed by government officials in charge of the public welfare. A person must nonetheless resist personal discouragement, sadness, dejection, and despondency. I must reach an accord with pain, suffering, and anguish, or forevermore be tortured by reality while constantly seeking to escape from the inescapable agony of being.”

“The profound misery that Akathisia symptoms cause has ruined my daily existence, making basic chores and personal passions impossible. A sense of futility and alienation has replaced the delight of simple joys and successes. My once-vibrant existence has been reduced to survival, interspersed by occasional relief from Georgie, my cat. Georgie's company has given me hope that life can still be full of unconditional love and simple joy, even at its worst periods. This great adversity inspires me to persevere. While my circumstances appear overwhelming, my tenacity in despair shows the invincible human spirit. Georgie's constant presence has taught me that there is always something to live for, even in despair. Healing is possible, and joy and meaning in life, however elusive, are within grasp. I face my problems with this weak but growing hope, determined to find my way back to a meaningful and happy existence.”

“The pain of severe depression is quite unimaginable to those who have not suffered it, and it kills in many instances because its anguish can no longer be borne. The prevention of many suicides will continue to be hindered until there is a general awareness of the nature of this pain.”

“He suffers from akathisia. Although he knows he wouldn't go through with it, he frequently finds himself consumed by thoughts of suicide. He explained that it essentially comes with it; it's that simple. He thought that being overwhelmed and stretched too thin rendered him ineffective for himself and others. He claims it is the source of his most profound suffering and anguish, no matter how it appears on the surface. He conquers akathisia. As a result, he claims victory at every moment of his waking life.”

“This moment feels so dreadfully sore, Like a prickly thorn that I can't ignore. It's excruciating, oh how it stings, Like a bee's sharp sting that really zings. Pain, oh pain, it's part of the game, In life's grand adventure, it's never the same. From bumps and bruises to a broken heart, Pain finds a way to play its part. It sneaks up on us, oh yes it does, With a sting and a throb, just because. But Let me pamper myself with care so fine, In this very moment, oh how divine! With utmost tenderness, I shall embrace, A moment of self-love, at my own pace! I require some mercy, oh yes indeed, To grant myself kindness, in word and in deed. In this world so vast, with troubles untold, I seek solace and grace, to have and to hold.”

“But it is not likely that he had reference to the kind of anguish that comes with destitution, that is so endlessly bitter and cruel, and yet so sordid and petty, so ugly, so humiliating—unredeemed by the slightest touch of dignity or even of pathos. It is a kind of anguish that poets have not commonly dealt with; its very words are not admitted into the vocabulary of poets—the details of it cannot be told in polite society at all.”

“An ugly personal disdain for life is a reaction to an internal fury. A rage of immense portions clogs my veins. Similar to a convict sentenced to death row, I know my fate. I deplore living in solitary confinement. I hunger to locate the hidden power to escape a loathsome prior self. The gallows is the only apparent reprieve to the paucity of my personal existence. Unless I assassinate my pernicious ego, I will continue to experience life as a revolving wheel of anguish, suffering, guilt, remorse, and self-hatred.”

“The thought of her gave me such a continual anguish that I could no more forget her than an aching tooth. It was involuntary, hopeless, compulsive. For years she had been the first thing I remembered when I woke up, the last thing that drifted through my mind as I went to sleep, and during the day she came to me obtrusively, obsessively, always with a painful shock.”