Oscar Wilde Quotes

I had never felt so lonely and so sad in my entire life.

Being locked up is one thing, but to have no concept of confinement, to be ignorant of its terms and never understand that struggle is useless - that's what hell must be like.

Then black despair, The shadow of a starless night, was thrown Over the world in which I moved alone.

All right, then, I thought: here I am in the bottom of a well.

It had ceased raining in the night and he walked out on the road and called for the dog. He called and called. Standing in that inexplicable darkness. Where there was no sound anywhere save only the wind. After a while he sat in the road. He took off his hat and placed it on the tarmac before him and he bowed his head and held his face in his hands and wept. He sat there for a long time and after a while the east did gray and after a while the right and godmade sun did rise, once again, for all and without distinction.

In misery's darkest cavern known, His useful care was ever nigh Where hopeless anguish pour'd his groan, And lonely want retir'd to die.

No longer will you be a weird Robinson Crusoe, imprisoned on an island of night surrounded by oceans of death.

When I realize that she is gone, perhaps gone forever, a great void opens up and I feel that I am falling, falling, falling into deep, black space. And this is worse than tears, deeper than regret or pain or sorrow, it is the abyss into which Satan was plunged. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or human touch of hand.

In the country of pain we are each alone.

Ah, mon cher, for anyone who is alone, without God and without a master, the weight of days is dreadful.

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!

The delta blues is a low-down, dirty shame blues. It's a sad, big wide sound, something to make you think about people who are dead or the women who left you.

Getting through the nights is the toughest part. Being alone. Not having her there to talk to.

Widow. The word consumes itself.

Oh, I am very weary, Though tears no longer flow; My eyes are tired of weeping, My heart is sick of woe.

A sad soul can kill quicker than a germ.

Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.

I happen to be pretty productive when I am in jail. When you are in jail, you have to spend more time with yourself.

Lonesome. Lonesome. I know what it means. Here all by my lonesome, dreaming empty dreams. Weary. Weary at the close of day, wondering if tomorrow brings me joy or sorrow.

In jail I was just like everybody else, I was sitting there praying, feeling caged.

Depression begins with disappointment. When disappointment festers in our soul, it leads to discouragement.

Sometimes I wonder if suicides aren't in fact sad guardians of the meaning of life.

There is no corner too quiet, or too far away, for a woman to make sorrow in it.

I stagnated in prison a long time, and I have wasted most of my life.