Steven Patrick Morrissey Quotes

I was dead inside.

Now the standard cure for one who is sunk is to consider those in actual destitution or physical suffering—this is an all-weather beatitude for gloom in general and fairly salutary day-time advice for everyone. But at three o’clock in the morning, a forgotten package has the same tragic importance as a death sentence, and the cure doesn’t work—and in a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day.

You have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!

I want to be alone. Sympathies wasted on my hollow shell. I feel there's nothing left to fight for. No reason for a cause.

Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon. She did not hear him, but stood over his bed and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow. Hold my hand, he said, and then: why are your putting the sheet over my face?

I could not bear the deep freeze settling around my bones at the thought that yet another attempt to get out of my life alive would end in disappointment. Time became palpable and viscous. Every minute, every second, every nanosecond, wrapped around my spine so that my nerves tightened and ached. I faded into abstraction. A self-generated narcosis created a painful blank where my mind used to be.

By his monstrous way of life he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke to him from the real world unless he heard it in an echo of the infuriated cries within him.

I'm all out o faith, this is how I feel. I'm cold and I am shamed lying naked on the floor. Illusions never change into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn. You're a little late, I'm already torn.

It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.

Crying is right at hand in the smothering dark, closed inside someone else, when you see how everything you can ever accomplish will end up as trash.

I am stigmatized by a living death in which real death holds no terrors for me.

I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.

Well, I did know - but I just wanted the day to pass and the next day to come and then I wanted that one to pass. It was a horrible cycle. I felt so close to having to pack the game in.

When you're in that scene, you really wonder if this is all you're ever going to be. You know how vile and filthy you are inside.

A sad soul can kill quicker than a germ.

You know that day after day of, Oh God what am I going to do with myself feeling? The fear of the emptiness that it implies keeps me going.

Living, it's awful for me.

I'm half alive but I feel mostly dead.

It's raining my soul, it's raining, but it's raining dead eyes.

I can feel myself dying inside.

Sometimes I only succeed in beating myself to death.

It's curious how we act in moments of personal despair.

My character in 'La Haine,' he's not bad; he's unhappy, and usually, people are like that. Most of us are angry.

I am a broken person.

Emptiness will always cripple me.