Fyodor Dostoevsky Quotes

But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.

I'm losing control."-Brittany Mamacita, I've already lost it."-Alex

Awareness of insanity does not make one any less insane. Awareness of drowning does not make one any less of a drowning person--it only adds the burden of panic

Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.

I'm not the only person who has something in their life they can't control.

We imagine that we want to escape our selfish and commonplace existence, but we cling desperately to our chains.

You don't know what it's like to be me.

Since many years, I realized that I have a darker side in me, even though I still believe I'm a very positive person. But still, there is still darkness that makes me write music and create in general, and it affects everything that I do. I believe it's a beautiful darkness.

If we try to deny the darkness in our souls then we'll become completely dark.

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy. It climbs the same way on damp walls. You are to blame for this cruel sport. They are fleeing from my dark lair. You fill everything, you fill everything. Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy, and they are more used to my sadness than you are. Now I want them to say what I want to say to you to make you hear as I want you to hear me.

The more conscious I was of goodness and of all that was 'sublime and beautiful,'the more deeply I sank into my mire and the more ready I was to sink in it altogether.

What I was chasing in circles must have been the tail of the darkness inside me.

I don't kill myself. I can't live like that.

Arithmetic arithmetock Turn the hands back on the clock How does the ocean rock the boat? How did the razor find my throat? The only strings that hold me here Are tangled up around the pier.

She wept with shame for her lack of will and with fear for a love she couldn't control.

There's not even room enough to be anywhere/It's not dark yet, but it's getting there.../I was born here and I'll die here against my will/I know it looks like I'm moving, but I'm standing still.

She was as one who, in madness, was resolute to throw herself from a precipice, but to whom some remnant of sanity remained which forced her to seek those who would save her from herself.

She was like a drowning person, flailing, reaching for anything that might save her. Her life was an urgent, desperate struggle to justify her life.

Anyone else feel like that? Like your life's a big act. Like you're trying to be a man when you're just a scared kid, trying to keep under control when you really want to scream, cry, or maybe hit someone. Ever feel like you're breathing underwater and you have to stop because you're gulping in too much fluid.

I am inside someone who hates me. I look out from his eyes.

Beginning to think is beginning to be undermined. Society has but little connection with such beginnings. The worm is in man's heart. That is where it must be sought. One must follow and understand this fatal game that leads from lucidity in the face of existence to flight from light.

Be still my tongue, for i know not what to say; My life is lived in darkness and here i will remain.

Help me, Jesus. I know what I am.

Inside and out, Westley's world was ripping apart and he could do nothing but crack along with it.

Dear God...I have always been a good girl. Maybe you can give me a sign letting me know what is happening to me.