Benjamin Franklin Quotes

I can't get my wrists to bleed, just don't know why suicide appeals to me.

I never tried to kill myself or anything.

When you commit your life to something and it doesn't work out, it is a tough place to be. Suicide can be the spiritual reprieve of a faithless person. I knew I could always just end it, and there was solace in that.

All healthy men have thought of their own suicide

If wild my breast and sore my pride, I bask in dreams of suicide, If cool my heart and high my head I think 'How lucky are the dead.

I'm not glorifying it at all, I'm just basically telling you that sometimes I have suicidal thoughts. And maybe I should seek help, or maybe it's not that deep.

I can't even remember how many times I tried to kill myself.

The first inkling my husband had that I was thinking about suicide was when he checked my blog.

My own life was filled with so much love and joy that when depression struck, it was like a prison door slamming shut and I was being placed in an isolation cell. No one else could possibly be feeling what I was. I hated my depression and all of its symptoms.

It is always consoling to think of suicide: in that way one gets through many a bad night.

There was three or four years of my life where I hated myself and you know, would have quite happily ended it.

Early on, if I was alone two three nights in a row, I'd start writing poems about suicide.

There was a moment in my life when I really wanted to kill myself. And there was one other moment when I was close to that. But even in my most jaded times, I had some hope.

The man, who in a fit of melancholy, kills himself today, would have wished to live had he waited a week.

Depression is so treacherous - it can be so alluring as well as punishing. After all, it's yours and yours alone - no one else can interfere with it.

It got to a point where I didn't care if I lived or I died.

I couldn't commit suicide if my life depended on it.

[I] have fantasies of killing myself and thus being the powerful one not the powerless one.

I am not even alive enough to know how to kill myself

What an indulgence it would be, to just blow off my head, all my mean spirits disappearing with a gun blast, like blowing a seedy dandelion apart.

Everyone has good cause for suicide, or at least it seems that way to those who search for it. (74)

It (suicide) became a possibility like Maybe when I grow up, I will be dead. Life was a cake that looked good on the bakery shelf but turned to sawdust and salt when I ate it.

Kill me, I don't care. I do not want to be on this Earth anymore.

...we ask: Why suicide? We search for reasons, causes, and so on.... We follow the course of the life he has now so suddenly terminated as far back as we can. For days we are preoccupied with the question: Why suicide? We recollect details. And yet we must say that everything in the suicide's life- for now we know that all his life he was a suicide, led a suicide's existence- is part of the cause, the reason, for his suicide.

I am too busy thinking about killing myself.