Shelby Lynne Quotes

No one will ever feel sorry for me.

I'm constantly tortured, and that's why I say happiness is irrelevant. Happiness is for children and yuppies.

I want you to take away the hope because that's the thing that's killing me.

Watch waterfalls of pity roar, you feel to moan but unlike before, you discover that you'd just be one more person crying.

I can't cheer up — I don't want to cheer up. It's nicer to be miserable!

Misery no longer loves company. Nowadays it insists on it.

If you have ever been in a real tragic or sad situation, the words that come out are hopelessly inadequate and kind of cliched.

Companions, in misery and worse, that is what we all are, and to try to change this substantially avails us nothing.

I've been to those places where it's 'poor, pitiful me.'

Hopelessness has surprised me with patience.

It’s not that the actual suffering is so great—though it’s bad enough—but the men seem such big helpless children, and the women so impersonal—little Atlases under a load they know will crush them out at last, but it doesn’t matter. They aren’t conscious any more than their hearts are conscious of their endless business of beating. They have no conscious life, no windows. It makes me ill.

…the more miserable a man is, the more he dreads every sort of change, lest it make him more wretched still.

Rather than have joy, I would rather be absent of pain.

When you are debilitated, and you're very depressed, and you believe there's no hope, you cannot get a better potpourri of down.

I'm not going to whine or get depressed. Who's going to feel sorry for me? Nobody.

For a long time, I have hoped for better days, but alas, today it is necessary for me to lose all hope. My poor wife suffers more and more. I do not think it is possible to be any weaker.

When the calamity we feared is already arrived, or when the expectation of it is so certain as to shut out hope, there seems to be a principle within us by which we look with misanthropic composure on the state to which we are reduced, and the heart sullenly contracts and accommodates itself to what it most abhorred.

No one alive is more tormented nor weaker than myself.

Learn, he says, that there will be hours, days and months ahead of feeling absolutely terrible and nothing can change that; neither new girlfriends, health professionals, changes of diet, dope, humility, or God.

I'm not yet desperate enough to do anything about the conditions that are making me desperate.

I had no hope. Yet expectation lived on in me, the last thing she had left behind. What further consummations, mockeries, torments did I still anticipate? I had no idea as I abided in the unshaken belief that the time of cruel wonders was not yet over.

There are peaks, there are valleys. But they're all kind of carved and smoothed out, and it feels like a low level of despair you live in. Where you're not getting any answers, but you're living OK. And you can smile at the office. You know? But it's a low level of despair. I was on Prozac for a long time. It may have helped me out of a jam for a little bit, but people stay on it forever. I had to get off at a certain point because I realized that, you know, everything's just OK.

Despair exaggerates not only our misery but also our weakness.

Aren't all these notes the senseless writings of a man who won't accept the fact that there is nothing we can do with suffering except to suffer it?

We didn't wish -- wishes are wasted... We didn't hope -- because our future was inevitable... And we didn't pray -- we were on our own.