That was another lesson I had learned perhaps too well: people meant pain.
Patrick RothfussMots clés inspiration depressing
He was the monster. That was what Kahlan saw. And she had sent him away in a collar to be tortured. Because he was a monster that needed to be collared, a beast.
Terry GoodkindMots clés fantasy depressing
No - no - no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!"
And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
Mots clés why loss death harry-potter crying sad depressing fred j-k-rowling so-many-feels
With the final onset of dark the iron cold locked down and the boy by now was shuddering violently. No moon rose beyond the murk and there was nowhere to go.
Cormac McCarthyMots clés depressing
Black is not sad. Bright colors are what depresses me. They’re so… empty. Black is poetic. How do you imagine a poet? In a bright yellow jacket? Probably not.
Ann DemeulemeesterMots clés colors black depressing
- en nu wist ze ook al evenveel van hem als hij van haar: dat hij voor de bioscoop een studio had gehad en daarvoor roadie was geweest. Behalve dan dat hij een Fender had viel er over hem verder niets te vertellen.
Thomas RosenboomMots clés loneliness sad depressing
Pero, en general, la humanidad me pareció siempre detestable. No tengo inconvenientes en manifestar que a veces me impedía comer en todo el día o me impedía pintar durante una semana el haber observado un rasgo; es increíble hasta qué punto la codicia, la envidia, la petulancia, la grosería, la avidez y, en general, todo ese conjunto de atributos que forman la condición humana pueden verse en una cara, en una manera de caminar, en una mirada. Me parece natural que después de un encuentro así uno no tenga ganas de comer, de pintar, ni aun de vivir.
Ernesto SabatoMots clés misanthropy depressing
In fact I thought life was pretty much a losing proposition, and I didn't mind saying so.
Richard HellMots clés life truth depressing
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She saw it in her mind's eye like a movie playing, the haunting memories from her childhood she couldn't seem to shake blending together into one raw, aching image. Her mother lying in a darkened room for days, her face swollen with tears. The inevitable ashtray overrun with ashes, the acrid scent of pot smoke in the air. The bed or couch or futon may have been different from year to year as Evie moved them around from apartment to commune to funky cottage, but her mother was always the same. Falling hard for some man, immersing herself in romantic fantasies that were crushed when the guy left. And the guy always left. Her mother's inability to get a grasp on reality had too often left Mischa to care for her younger sister, to care for her mother, from too young an age. She remembered shaking Evie awake, trying to get her to eat. To get up and take a shower, take her and Raine to school. No kid should have to do that. No kid should have to witness the way Evie had allowed herself to be ravaged by love. No woman should allow that to happen.
Eve BerlinMots clés sad childhood-memory depressing bad-parenting
I sometimes feel like life is just one big test to see how long we can survive.
Jessica SorensenMots clés life depressing
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