Pierre Charron Quotes

Most of the world was mad. And the part that wasn't mad was angry. And the part that wasn't mad or angry was just stupid. I had no chance. I had no choice. Just hang on and wait for the end. It was hard work. It was the hardest work imaginable.

Hope is the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard.

Broke with nothing to live for and damn ready to die young. I'm the shadow behind the gun, look what I've become.

I was hell bent on destruction... it was like being possessed by a demon.

I understood why she did it. At that moment I knew why people tagged graffiti on the walls of neat little houses and scratched the paint on new cars and beat up well-tended children. It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.

I used to write out of angst. My writing was quite miserable, quite angry, even when it was funny. It was based on this sadness and tired emotional disdain for the world.

Feeling alone makes negative feelings worse. When you feel alone, frustration quickly can become anger, fear quickly can become panic.

Despair, in short, seeks its own environment as surely as water finds its own level.

I'd been hurt, and in response I had acted violently, destroying a little of myself each time I did so.

Only self-hatred could lead him to ruin himself because his heart was "broken.

That's the terrible part. I swear to God I'm a madman.

I am...sad and angry. Why is my spirit so sad and angry? I look back at my life and all I can remember is rage and rage and rage.

Our rages, daughters of despair, creep and squirm like worms. Prayer is the only form of revolt which remains upright.

All the Hennessy and weed can't hide, the pain i feel inside, its like I'm living just to die.

Often does hatred hurt itself.

Once, during the drinking phase, Wendy had accused him of desiring his own destruction but not possessing the necessary moral fiber to support a full-blown deathwish. So he manufactured ways in which other people could do it, lopping a piece at a time off himself and their family.

That night it felt that somehow by flicking them off the roof, the matches would burn down everything, the sparks from the tips of the flames, torching the world and all the heartbroken people in it.

And the thought of that makes me want to open a vein, experience pain, know I'm alive, despite this living death.

Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee, as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness.

Angry men have little to live for when their rage becomes ineffective.

But it's precisely in this cold, loathsome half-despair, half-belief, in this deliberate burying of yourself underground for forty years out of sheer pain, in this assiduously constructed, and yet somewhat dubious hopelessness, in all this poision of unfulfilled desires turned inward, this fever of vacillations, of resolutions adopted for eternity, and of repentances a moment later that you find the very essence of that strange, sharp pleasure.

Envy, if surrounded on all sides by the brightness of another's prosperity, like the scorpion confined within a circle of fire, will sting itself to death.

The self-hatred that destroys is the waste of unfulfilled promise.