Elizabeth Wurtzel Quotes

You were right and I was wrong. When life hurts more than death, it is not worth living.

And the pain is too much it's too much it's too much and my hands are on my head and I'm rearing back and my mouth is open in a never-ending wordless wail of all the blackness that's inside me. And i fall back into it.

In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality.

The pain of powerlessness is excruciating. It is the most painful experience in the earth school, and everyone shares it.

Life will not break your heart. It'll crush it.

The problem is, when I talk about heartbreak or whatever, people want to melt it down to some break-up of a relationship, but it's not about that. If you're a sensitive person, just stepping outside can be heartbreaking.

With grief, you have reason to despair; it's a human thing.

My painting carries with it the message of pain.

Love and despair go hand in hand.

Anybody singing the blues is in a deep pit yelling for help.

My tears will keep no channel, know no laws to guide their streams, but like the waves, their cause, run with disturbance till they swallow me as a description of his misery.

I mean, whose songs don't focus on tragedy and loss?

I have seen things in my life that have broken me in spirit.

I have lived poverty. I didn't choose it. No one would choose humiliation, pain, and rage.

I saw tough times, and there were many nights when I would just cry out aloud.

Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more! Thou hast mocked me, starved me, beat my body sore! And all for a pledge that was not pledged by me, I have kissed thy crust and eaten sparingly That I might eat again, and met thy sneers With deprecations, and thy blows with tears.

Despair is part of love.

For now they kill me with a living death.

Real misery cuts off all paths to itself.

...but the truth is that I don't feel like I can carry anyone but myself right now. The streets are empty. I am empty. Or, no--I am full of pain. It's my life that's empty.

And even though people try to pretend that pain doesn't do anything to them, none of us can really handle it. Everything bad we do in our life is because of pain of some kind.

There is an art in taking the whiplash of suffering full in the face, an art you must learn. Let each single attack exhaust itself; pain always makes single attacks, so that its bite may be more intense, more concentrated. And you, while its fangs are implanted and injecting their venom at one spot, do not forget to offer it another place where it can bite you, and so relieve the pain of the first.

I guess that's why they call it Hell.

I did not know it was possible to be so miserable and live but I am told that this is a common experience.

True suffering does not know itself and never calculates.