Robert Louis Stevenson Quotes

But he knew instinctively what he suggested was impossible. She'd been through so much, and held her tears back for so long, that Royce doubted that anything could force her to shed them.

Gods suppressed become devils, and often it is these devils whom we first encounter when we turn inward.

If I let a little of the emotion out, all of it will come out, and it will never end.

At that point, Noriko finally breaks down and begins to cry sobbing into her hands as the floodgates open - this young woman who has suffered in silence for so long, this good woman who refuse to believe she's good, for only the good doubt their own goodness, which is what makes them good in the first place. The bad know they are good, but the good know nothing. They spend their lives forgiving others, but they can't forgive themselves.

Dear God, May all the tears I cry, and all the tears I have not cried but hold within, pour forth into Your hands. Please take each painful thought and unhealed wound, and send angels here to me. I long for peace. Amen.

Nothing should be permanent except struggle with the dark side within ourselves.

In the beginning this is bound to happen. You have been sitting on the lid that covers your repressions, and you have been riding on that lid a long time, trying continuously to hold down everything beneath it. To become a witness means that you have finally jumped off the lid; now you will only stand aside and will not do anything. Now you will no longer repress, now you will just witness. So everything suppressed will arise, all the repressions will catch fire; you will find flames leaping where there were only ashes.

You looking good." "Devil's confusion. He lets me look good long as I feel bad.

Whoever is in control of the hell in your life, is your devil.

For poetry exists to break through to below the level of reason where the angels and monsters that the amenities keep in the cellar may come out to dance, to rove and roar, growling and singing, to bring life back to the enclosed rooms where too often we are only 'living and partly living.

I sometimes need to write things which I cannot completely control but which therefore prove that what is in me is stronger than I am.

...the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long and final scream of despair.

Maybe that's all demons ever are. People like us, doing things without even knowing what we're doing.

Tally turned away. Five minutes was suddenly too long to stand here, eyes burning, unable to cry.

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.

I was tired of secrets, tired of seeing things I was not supposed to see. And so I just cried.

The madness is there, and will always be there. But it will keep sleeping, as long as I don't wake it up.

I wish to cry. Yet, I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on top of the beer can

Write what haunts you. What keeps you up at night. What you are unable to get out of your mind. Sometimes they are the hardest things to write, but those are often the things that are worth investigating by you specifically. . .

If my devils are to leave me, I'm afraid my angels will take flight as well.

For a long time that's all I could do, howl and scream and cry like the wild animal of the night that I'd become.

And I offer you this parable: Not a few who sought to cast out their devil entered into the swine themselves.

Don't take my devils away, because my angels may flee too.

There's nothing on my mind that couldn't be expressed by a long insane outburst of hysterical rage.

Songwriting is about getting the demon out of me. It's like being possessed. You try to go to sleep, but the song won't let you. So you have to get up and make it into something, and then you're allowed to sleep. It's always in the middle of the night, or you're half-awake or tired, when your critical faculties are switched off. So letting go is what the whole game is. Every time you try to put your finger on it, it slips away. You turn on the lights and the cockroaches run away. You can never grasp them...