Lars von Trier Quotes

Love and despair go hand in hand.

All art, like all love, is rooted in heartache.

Real misery cuts off all paths to itself.

To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer. Not to love is to suffer.

People believe a man is in distress because his loved one dies in one day. But his real pain is less futile: it is that he finds out that sadness too does not last. Even pain has no meaning.

Sorrow is not a raven perched persistently above a chamber door. Sorrow is a thing with teeth, and while in time it retreats, it comes back at the whisper of it's name.

I wish I had no heart, it aches so.

Some were beggars, some were kings, and some were masters of the arts. But in their shame they're all the same, these men with broken hearts.

I think of Grace and feel a sharp pain in my chest.

I couldn’t help but think about school and everything else ending. I liked standing just outside the couches and watching them—it was a kind of sad I didn’t mind, and so I just listened, letting all the happiness and the sadness of this ending swirl around in me, each sharpening the other. For the longest time, it felt kind of like my chest was cracking open, but not precisely in an unpleasant way.

Of all our sorrows, memory is the worst.

What breaks my heart is suffering of any kind.

To revive sorrow is cruel.

Now I know that grief is a whetstone that sharpens all your love, all your happiest memories, into blades that tear you apart from within.

No sadness is greater than in misery to rehearse memories of joy.

I wish I were dead, or that it were tomorrow night,' groaned Phil.

No tears to damn you when jealousy burns.

More grievous than tears is the sight of them.

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

You slammed my face down on the barbecue grill, now my scars are all healing, but my heart never will.

You can hide beneath the covers and study your pain, make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain. Waste your summer praying in vain, for a savior to rise from these streets.

Any happiness, no matter how brief, seemed better than the long, simmering torture of waking up day after day, knowing I could never have him.

My best friend ran away with my wife, and let me tell you, I miss him.

I'm rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. I'm tired of bein on the road, lonely as a robin in the rain. Not never havin no buddy to go on with or tell me where we's comin from or goin to or why. I'm tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I'm tired of all the times I've wanted to help and couldn't. I'm tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it's the pain. There's too much. If I could end it, I would. But I can't.

The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after day after terrible day.