"Dispair" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... not his looks now at the Barr, His face like death, his heart with horror fraught, Nor Male-factor ever felt like warr, When deep dispair with wish of life hath fought, Branded with guilt, and crusht with treble woes, A vagabond to Land of Nod he goes; A City builds, that wals might ...
— Anne Bradstreet and Her Time • Helen Campbell
... upon to renunciate anything. In the midst of my dispair Jane asked for a Sandwitch and thus releived my mind. I got her some cake and a bottle of cream from the pantrey and she became more normle. She swore she had never cared for Tom, he being not her style, as she had never loved any one ...
— Bab: A Sub-Deb • Mary Roberts Rinehart
... cries of nature? But what matter? I must tell you to what a dredful point you are gilty, and the horror of the position to which you have brought me. Henry, you knew what I sufered from my first wrong-doing, and yet you plunged me into the same misery, and then abbandoned me to my dispair and sufering. Yes, I will say it, the belif I had that you loved me and esteemed me gave me corage to bare my fate. But now, what have I left? Have you not made me loose all that was dear to me, all that held me to life; parents, frends, onor, ...
— The Thirteen • Honore de Balzac
... purgatorye As man dispayred in a double were Born vp wit[h] hope, and the[n]e anon daunger Me drawet[h] aback, and sait[h] it shal not be For where as I of myne aduersite Am bolde somwhyle mercy to requyre Thenne comet[h] dispair & gynnet[h] me to lere A newe lesson to hope ful the contrary They be so diuerse they wil do me varye And thus I stand dismayed in a traunce For whan that hope were likly me tauaunce For drede I tremble & dar one word not speke And yf hit so be, that I not out breke ...
— The Temple of Glass • John Lydgate
... what pangs of regret we used to see her turn down the leaves of the pages, which meant that some delightfully dreadful part must be scratched out. And I remember one part pertickularly which was perfectly fascinating it was dreadful, that Clara and I used to delight in, and oh with what dispair we saw mamma turn down the leaf on which it was written, we thought the book would be almost ruined without it. But we gradually came to ...
— Chapters from My Autobiography • Mark Twain |
