Stephen Fry Quotes

Hell is more bearable than nothingness.

Rage is really only for the good days. The truth is there's little of that left. the truth is that the forms I see have been slowly emptied out. They no longer have any content. They are shapes only. A train, a wall, a world. Or a man. A thing dangling in senseless articulation in a howling void. No meaning to its life. Its words. Why would I seek the company of such a thing? Why?

Everything depends on this: a fathomless sinking into a fathomless nothingness.

It's really easy to slide into a depression fueled by the pointlessness of existence.

An intimate core of my being recognizes that there is nothing in me that can go on: there is no spark; there is no infestation of vaporous miasma that has the capacity to continue, and there is nothing in me that wishes to continue. This moment is, for me, all that there is, and I'm willing to accept it. I'm a worm; I have no soul.

Meaninglessness takes hold because meaninglessness is addictive.

Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being - like a worm.

I am nothing, and not even that.

Everything in the world is gloriously meaningless.

Don't you see, if when we die there's nothing, all your sun and fields and what not are all, ah, horror? It's just an ocean of horror.

There were days when she was unhappy, she did not know why,--when it did not seem worthwhile to be glad or sorry, to be alive or dead; when life appeared to her like a grotesque pandemonium and humanity like worms struggling blindly toward inevitable annihilation.

People are scared man, they're scared of the void.

One must either take an interest in the human situation or else parade before the void.

Life may be not only meaningless but absurd.

Bad things are not the worst things that can happen to us. Nothing is the worst thing that can happen to us!

Oh, what a void there is in things.

We live in a vacuous world, yet we do so with a feeling of urgency.

The whole world appears to me like a huge vacuum, a vast empty space, whence nothing desirable, or at least satisfactory, can possibly be derived; and I long daily to die more and more to it; even though I obtain not that comfort from spiritual things which I earnestly desire.

I had an essence in my life that I was nothing.

Life has become the ideology of its own absence.

I searched all areas of knowledge, and not only did I fail to find anything, but I was convinced that all those who had explored as I did had also come up with nothing. Not only had they found nothing, but they had clearly acknowledged the same thing that had brought me to despair: the only absolute knowledge attainable by man is that life is meaningless.

Everything means nothing that is the only truth.

We do not pray for immortality, but only not to see our acts and all things stripped suddenly of all their meaning; for then it is the utter emptiness of everything reveals itself.

Every time I wake, I understand how easy it is to be nothing.