Dave Pelzer Quotes

When you're miserable, you don't want anyone around you to be happy.

I would like somebody to be hated more than I am.

Once upon a time there was a lady. She had no children, and no happiness either. And at first she cried for a long time, but then she became wicked.

To envy is to draw circles that isolate us from others, to take small, bitter trips that diminish the traveler.

I was modest--they accused me of being crafty: I became secretive. I felt deeply good and evil--nobody caressed me, everybody offended me: I became rancorous. I was gloomy--other children were merry and talkative. I felt myself superior to them--but was considered inferior: I became envious. I was ready to love the whole world--none understood me: and I learned to hate.

This world that I live in is empty and cold/the loneliness cuts me and tortures my soul.

I shall never love anybody. I can't love people. I hate them.' 'The time will come, dear, the time will come.

She hates me and you hate me, but you all love Harry. Nobody loves me.

That is how prison is tearing me up inside. It hurts every day. Every day takes me further from my life.

My entire soul is a cry, and all my work is a commentary on that cry.

For the poison of hatred seated near the heart doubles the burden for the one who suffers the disease; he is burdened with his own sorrow, and groans on seeing another's happiness.

You feel like everyone hates you if you've got a good life, now I feel maybe it's allowed because I've had my share of sadness.

The hater always suffers more than the object of his hatred.

Loneliness is always there, it's a phase that comes and goes and it is a very difficult phase.

I understand the power of sorrow, and I understand how far it can take us from ourselves if we let it.

He did not go much further, but sat down on the cold floor and gave himself up to complete miserableness, for a long while. He thought of himself frying bacon and eggs in his own kitchen at home - for he could feel inside that it was high time for some meal or other; but that only made him miserabler.

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough

It's very hard, feeling that you're no more than a piece of unwanted furniture in this world.

My greatest affliction... is perhaps the major theme of my writings, the affliction of loneliness that follows me like a shadow, a very ponderous shadow too heavy to drag after me all of my days and nights.

Choking with dry tears and raging, raging, raging at the absolute indifference of nature and the world to the death of love, the death of hope and the death of beauty, I remember sitting on the end of my bed, collecting these pills and capsules together and wondering why, why when I felt I had so much to offer, so much love, such outpourings of love and energy to spend on the world, I was incapable of being offered love, giving it or summoning the energy with which I knew I could transform myself and everything around me.

I wrote at the start that this was a record of hate, and walking there beside Henry towards the evening glass of beer, I found the one prayer that seemed to serve the winter mood: O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I'm too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone forever.

Look, it's a monster. He's walking alone. Look, he's pulling something out of his pocket. He threw it on the ground. Let's go see what it is. It's a black box. You open it... ok... Look, it's sorrow, misery and pain. It's loneliness and longing. Boy, he'll be sorry he lost these.