The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you’ll never have.
Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn’t stop for anybody.
Why didn’t I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.
I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
Life is a useless passion.
I feel much better, now that I’ve given up hope.
It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others.
The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live – moreover, the only one.
Everything you gain in life will rot and fall apart, and all that will be left of you is what was in your heart.
Step by step, heart to heart, left right left. We all fall down like toy soldiers. Bit by bit, torn apart, we never win.
I don’t want to die. But I want to be dead.
My life has been nothing but a failure.
Nobody loves me. Sometimes I wish God could come down and hug me.
It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul.
Nothing in life is promised except death.
The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies, With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies, When love is done.
Everything is temporary. Everything is bound to end.
This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance. A lifetime is like a flash of lightning in the sky, Rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.