Depression Quotes - Page 13

I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth. Whether I shall ever be better, I cannot tell; I awfully forebode I shall not. To remain as I am is impossible. I must die or be better, it appears to me.

Psychoanalysts believe that the only "normal" people are those who cause not trouble to either themselves or anyone else.

We can’t all and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.

Through the healing process of time-and through medical intervention or hospitalization in many cases-most people survive depression which may be its only blessing; but to the tragic legion who are compelled to destroy themselves there should be no more reproof attached than to the victims of terminal cancer.

Just like other illnesses, depression can be treated so that people can live happy, active lives.

I want to apologize for plaguing you with so many telephone calls last November and December. When the 'enthusiasm' is coming on me it is accompanied by a feverish reaching out to my friends. After its over I wince and wither.

I give myself a good cry if I need it. But then I concentrate on the good things still in my life. I don't allow myself any more self-pity than that. A little each every morning, a few tears, and that's all.

Pull yourself together' is seldom said to anyone who can.

Happiness and depression cannot blossom on the same vine. Some people affirm their woes and beg for sympathy. Others, unfortunately, cast gloom wherever they go. These poor souls were born sick and tired.

My own image of my work is that I no sooner settle into something than a break occurs. These breaks are always painful and depressing but despite them I see that there's a consistency that holds out, but is hard to define.

Depression presents itself as a realism regarding the rottenness of the world in general and the rottenness of your life in particular. But the realism is merely a mask for depression's actual essence, which is an overwhelming estrangement from humanity. The more persuaded you are of your unique access to the rottenness, the more afraid you become of engaging with the world; and the less you engage with the world, the more perfidiously happy-faced the rest of humanity seems for continuing to engage with it.

I suppose our capacity for self-delusion is boundless.

During the Great Depression, when people laughed their worries disappeared. Audiences loved these funny men. I decided to become one.

For the immediate future, at least, the outlook (stocks) is bright.

You can tell a lot from a person's nails. When a life starts to unravel, they're among the first to go.

One trembles to think of that mysterious thing in the soul, which seems to acknowledge no human jurisdiction, but in spite of the individual's own innocence self, will still dream horrid dreams, and mutter unmentionable thoughts.

The place where optimism most flourishes is the lunatic asylum.

That terrible mood of depression of whether it's any good or not is what is known as The Artist's Reward.

I'm what you call a Depression sailor.

It is not seen as insane when a fighter, under an attack that will inevitable lead to his death, chooses to take his own life first. In fact, this act has been encouraged for centuries, and is accepted even now as an honorable reason to do the deed. How is it any different when you are under attack by your own mind?

So you try to think of someone else you're mad at, and the unavoidable answer pops into your little warped brain: everyone.

If you are chronically down, it is a lifelong fight to keep from sinking

When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it's time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.

Before any great achievement, some measure of depression is very usual.

For in all adversity of fortune the worst sort of misery is to have been happy.