Che Guevara Quotes

1967 was the bleakest, darkest, most emotional period of my life.

Pain is a forcing sieve that turns me to gruel.

After each dream, Frankie woke with a start, soaked in tears. But she found no relief in the peaceful silence of her room, because there everything was real. And the guilt was too immense to bear. Each time she opened her eyes, she'd quickly shut them. And wish that she had woken up for the very last time.

There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness.

God, I felt like hell tonight, tears of rage I cannot fight.

There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.

But it was not the room’s disorder which was frightening; it was the fact that when one began searching for the key to this disorder, one realized that it was not to be found in any of the usual places. For this was not a matter of habit or circumstance or temperament; it was a matter of punishment and grief.

I am just at tragedy right now.

Grief seems at first to destroy not just all patterns, but also to destroy a belief that a pattern exists.

I wanted to understand pain and the human condition, which is full of pain and regret and sadness - and some happiness, if you're lucky.

My tears will keep no channel, know no laws to guide their streams, but like the waves, their cause, run with disturbance till they swallow me as a description of his misery.

It's curious how we act in moments of personal despair.

I have shed many tears of pain and indignation.

Nobody knows the pain I've been through.

Dysphoria will always be a painful place.

I cry sometimes. I get very upset.

Oh, darling, I've been so miserable.

Awash in a flood of hostility and despair, they battled and railed and shattered their bodies on one another, unable to find one strand, one sobering swallow of solace.

When I'm in pain and grief and despair, my throat is clenched and my heart hurts.

My misery is reaching epidemic proportions.

Unhappiness was my god.

When people fall in deep distress, their native sense departs.

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.

Afflicted with existence, each man endures like an animal the consequences which proceed from it. Thus, in a world where everything is detestable, hatred becomes huger than the world and, having transcended its object, cancels itself out.

You encountered a misery near the end of the day and it took a while to gauge its full extent. Some miseries had sharp curvature and could be negotiated readily. Others had almost no curvature and you knew you'd be spending hours turning the corner. Great whopping-big planet-sized miseries.