Paula McLain Quotes

Depression is the flaw in love. To be creatures who love, we must be creatures who can despair at what we lose, and depression is the mechanism of that despair.

Love and despair go hand in hand.

Unhappiness was my god.

Choking with dry tears and raging, raging, raging at the absolute indifference of nature and the world to the death of love, the death of hope and the death of beauty, I remember sitting on the end of my bed, collecting these pills and capsules together and wondering why, why when I felt I had so much to offer, so much love, such outpourings of love and energy to spend on the world, I was incapable of being offered love, giving it or summoning the energy with which I knew I could transform myself and everything around me.

I just felt as though I would never be happy again, and as if I had fallen into a big black hole.

My heart is heavy, she thought. It’s not just a saying. It is what is—heavy, a great stone lodged in my breast, pressing down my whole being. How can I even stand straight and look out upon the world? I am doubled over into myself and, for all the weight, find only emptiness.

I feel a sense of sadness and joy. Mostly sadness though about what I've experienced and sadness about what others have experienced in reference to the stroke.

Depression is when you have lots of love, but no one's taking.

Mother's Day is a torment if your mother is dead. Valentine's Day is a torment if you don't got one. And at some point in our lives, we will be tormented by Valentine's Day even if we're relatively lucky in love.

For me, 'Amy' is a very dark film about love.

I was so broken when I did the first record. I was living in my parents' basement, I didn't know anyone. I was broken-hearted and writing this really dark record. I was at the bottom of a well.

I feel like crying and sadness has brought an actual change to the shape of my mouth.

It's difficult talking about someone you love when you've split up with them, because it's painful to rake up all those old emotions again.

I cry sometimes. I get very upset.

Oh, darling, I've been so miserable.

During the year I stood there I had known was the loss of my heart. While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth.

Once upon a time there was a lady. She had no children, and no happiness either. And at first she cried for a long time, but then she became wicked.

She tortured everybody around her, but only because she was more tortured than anyone.

All that was left for me was a terrible kind of paralysis, this waiting game, this heartbreak game.

And an inky-colored despair of rejection enveloped me like the black tortilla of depression around a pain burrito.

If they tell you that she died of sleeping pills you must know that she died of a wasting grief, of a slow bleeding at the soul.

I spent the rest of the day doing little more than that. I skipped dinner. I shed a few tears. But mostly, I just sat on my bed thinking and growing more and more depressed. I also discovered the only thing worse than imagining Dimitri and Tasha together was remembering when he and I had been together. He would never touch me again like that, never kiss me again.

My suffering left me sad and gloomy.

Ever since the day you left me, I've been so miserable, my dear. I feel almost as bad as I did when you were still here.