Even those who never frown eventually break down.
Sanity is a cozy lie.
Depression is rage spread thin.
I think I’m afraid of being happy because whenever I get too happy something bad always happens.
Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.
Truly, it is in darkness that one finds the light, so when we are in sorrow, then this light is nearest of all to us.
Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.
Of course I’m crazy, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
I hate my life. I’m at the point where I want to hear about other people’s lives. It’s like switching from fiction to biography.
Sleep is good, death is better; but of course, the best thing would to have never been born at all.
A book is a suicide postponed.
Alone in a world, With millions of souls Walking in circles Trapped in their dreams unhealthy, unclean walking in circles, now do not disturb scream in silence everyone’s sleeping.
Some kids are so depressed at home and with how people treat them in school that they cut themselves. This happens all over the world – kids who don’t want to kill themselves, but nobody understands how much they hurt, so they cut themselves with razor blades.
Every day begins with an act of courage and hope: getting out of bed.
The time I kill is killing me.
In a mad world, only the mad are sane.
The only way to escape the abyss is to look at it, gauge it, sound it out and descend into it.
Stay strong. Depression lies.
I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.
May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit. Though the world knows me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as will keep me friendly with myself.