#melancholy

I went to bed feeling melancholy, wishing I could have poured out all my fears and insecurities to my mom. Wasn’t that what normal mothers and daughters did? ↗

— Richelle Mead

#mother #sydney-sage #melancholy

She was not crying Which surprised me very much But I understand now That she had found places For her melancholy That were behind more masks Than only her eyes ↗

— Jonathan Safran Foer

#melancholy

She seemed imprisoned in her sadness. ↗

— Sena Jeter Naslund

#melancholy

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano! ↗

— William Shakespeare

#melancholy #melancholy

I wish to cry. Yet, I laugh, and my lipstick leaves a red stain like a bloody crescent moon on the top of the beer can. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#sadness #melancholy

Consider the cattle, grazing as they pass you by. They do not know what is meant by yesterday or today, they leap about, eat, rest, digest, leap about again, and so from morn till night and from day to day, fettered to the moment and its pleasure or displeasure, and thus neither melancholy nor bored. [...] A human being may well ask an animal: 'Why do you not speak to me of your happiness but only stand and gaze at me?' The animal would like to answer, and say, 'The reason is I always forget what I was going to say' - but then he forgot this answer too, and stayed silent. ↗

— Friedrich Nietzsche

#melancholy

Cut my life into pizzas. this is my plastic fork. oven baking, no breathing, dont give a fuck if its carbs that i'm eating' -Catherine Spann ↗

— Catherine Spann

#food #love #melancholy #poetry #sad

Melancholy is the pleasure of being sad. ↗

— Victor Hugo

#pleasure #sad #sorrow #sorrow

Name me no names for my disease, With uninforming breath; I tell you I am none of these, But homesick unto death —Homesick for hills that I had known, For brooks that I had crossed, ...Before I met this flesh and bone And followed and was lost… .And though they break my heart at last, Yet name no name of ills. Say only, "Here is where he passed, Seeking again those hills. ↗

— Witter Bynner

#melancholy #regret #yearning #death

When lovely woman stoops to folly, and finds too late that men betray, what charm can soothe her melancholy, what art can wash her guilt away? ↗

— Oliver Goldsmith

#away #betray #charm #finds #folly