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“It is certain that we cannot escape anguish, for we are anguish.”
― Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness

“This is an ode to life.
The anthem of the world.
For as there are billions
of different stars that
make up the sky
so, too, are there billions
of different humans that
make up the Earth.
Some shine brighter
but all are made of
the same cosmic dust.
O the joy of being
in life with all these people!
I speak of differences
because they are there.
Like the different organs
that make up our bodies.
Earth, itself, is one large body.
Listen to how it howls
when one human is
in misery.
When one kills another, the
Earth feels the pang in its
chest. When one orgasms,
the Earth craves a cigarette.
Look carefully,
these animals are
beauty spots that make the
Earth’s face lovelier
and more loveable.
These oceans are the Earth’s
limpid eyes. These trees, its hair.
This is an ode to life.
The anthem of the world.
I will no longer speak of
differences, for the similarities
are larger.
Look even closer. There may be
distances between our limbs but
there are no spaces between
our hearts. We long to be one.
We long to be in nature and
to run wild with its wildlife.
Let us celebrate life and living,
for it is sacrilegious
to be ungrateful.
Let us play and be playful,
for it is sacrilegious
to be serious.
Let us celebrate imperfections
and make existence
proud of us, for tomorrow is
death, and this is an ode to life.
The anthem of the world.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“When you are suffering from sexual starvation, a spank or even a hug seems like a porn scene.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“A life of hardship and personal suffering is unavoidable. A person must endure many humiliations of the mind and body, and expect persons whom they trusted to someday betray them. People inevitably witness the death of their loved ones. We also witness acts of depravity committed by criminals that lurk in every society and rouge acts of scandal committed by government officials in charge of the public welfare. A person must nonetheless resist personal discouragement, sadness, dejection, and despondency. I must reach an accord with pain, suffering, and anguish, or forevermore be tortured by reality while constantly seeking to escape from the inescapable agony of being.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“But I miss you to the point of anguish.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, Letters to Sartre

“Letting go of a craving is not rejecting it but allowing it to be itself: a contingent state of mind that once arisen will pass away. Instead of forcibly freeing ourselves from it, notice how its very nature is to free itself. To let it go is like releasing a snake that you have been clutching in your hand. By identifying with a craving ('I want this," don't want' that"), you tighten the clutch and intensify its resistance. Instead of being a state of mind that you have, it becomes a compulsion that has you. As with understanding anguish, the challenge in letting go of craving is to act before habitual reactions incapacitate us.”
― Stephen Batchelor, Buddhism without Beliefs: A Contemporary Guide to Awakening

“Those who do not care, escape the anguish of mourning but never know the delights of love. The meaning of life forever eludes them.”
― Wayne Gerard Trotman

“No one wants to occupy a black hole of sadness and despair or slip on the tight rope that separates sanity from insanity, and reside in a vortex devoid of reality. I entered the world as a freeman and desire to escape a state of existential vertigo. I yearn to discover a synthesizing spirit of my being and hold my head high, free of doubt, and devoid of fear. I wish to foment the cerebral energy to stave off premature destruction and forevermore blunt an intolerable state of anguish.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“All writers are demonic dreamers. Writing is an act of sharing experiences and offering of an individualistic perspective of our private attitudes pertaining to whatever topics of thought intrigues the author. Writing is a twitchy art, which attempts to employ linguist building blocks handed-down from past generations. Writersâ€� word choices form a structure of conjoined sentences when overlaid with the lingua of modern culture. Writers attempt to emulate in concrete form the synesthesia of our personal pottage steeped in our most vivid feelings. Writing a personal essay calls for us to sort out a jungle of lucid observations and express in a tangible technique our unique interpretation of coherent observations interlaced with that effusive cascade of yearning, the universal spice of unfilled desire, which turmoil of existential angst swamps us.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“Death would be an extremely bad thing like most of us paint it, if being dead were painful.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“A person must face the root cause of their relentless personal pain. Irrespective of whatever bricks buttress our youthful personal philosophy, pain avoidance, and pain therapy are likely two of its foundation stones.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“It doesn’t matter whether you are looking for a reason to be happy or sad, you will always find it.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus

“Everyone suffers, we're all caught in a vicious circle of anguish and distress, passed on from abused generation to abused generation. The only way out is to recognise the abuse, and step away from it.”
― Mango Wodzak, The Eden Fruitarian Guidebook

“It was a sordid scene. Philip leaned over the rail, staring down, and he ceased to hear the music. They danced furiously. They danced round the room, slowly, talking very little, with all their attention given to the dance. The room was hot, and their faces shone with sweat. It seemed to Philip that they had thrown off the guard which people wear on their expression, the homage to convention, and he saw them now as they really were. In that moment of abandon they were strangely animal: some were foxy and some were wolflike; and others had the long, foolish face of sheep. Their skins were sallow from the unhealthy life the led and the poor food they ate. Their features were blunted by mean interests, and their little eyes were shifty and cunning. There was nothing of nobility in their bearing, and you felt that for all of them life was a long succession of petty concerns and sordid thoughts. The air was heavy with the musty smell of humanity. But they danced furiously as though impelled by some strange power within them, and it seemed to Philip that they were driven forward by a rage for enjoyment. They were seeking desperately to escape from a world of horror. The desire for pleasure which Cronshaw said was the only motive of human action urged them blindly on, and the very vehemence of the desire seemed to rob it of all pleasure. The were hurried on by a great wind, helplessly, they knew not why and they knew not whither. Fate seemed to tower above them, and they danced as though everlasting darkness were beneath their feet. Their silence was vaguely alarming. It was as if life terrified them and robbed them of power of speech so that the shriek which was in their hearts died at their throats. Their eyes were haggard and grim; and notwithstanding the beastly lust that disfigured them, and the meanness of their faces, and the cruelty, notwithstanding the stupidness which was the worst of all, the anguish of those fixed eyes made all that crowd terrible and pathetic. Philip loathed them, and yet his heart ached with the infinite pity which filled him.

He took his coat from the cloak-room and went out into the bitter coldness of the night.”
― W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

“Raw anguish slithers through my brittle bones as the deathly call rots the air. Who murdered you old friend? The forest has no words to identify the hand, only erratic echo.”
― H.S. Crow, Lunora and the Monster King

“What she feels for him is so deep, she aches. She supposes this is what people refer to when they say the pangs of love, as if your innermost joy cannot help but cause you anguish as well.”
― Alice Hoffman, Blue Diary

“Where there is insistence, there is tenacity and where there is tenacity, there is anguish.”
― Dada Bhagwan

“Humans recognize the duality, autonomy, and latitude range of the mind and the body, and all humans comprehend their impending mortality. Unlike other animals, humankind knows despair brought about by understanding the inevitability of death of all living creatures. The radius of human thought touching upon the longitude of our transient existence causes infinite pain. Seeking to ameliorate existential anguish incites us to ponder spiritual matters, and this sphere of mental activity spurs us to contemplate the perimeter of unknown frontiers. Our ability to understand the compass of life and death allows us to view the circumference of the world as consisting of a past, a present, and a future in relation to our own lives. How a person views the range of their earthly life and how a person rationalizes their march towards a deathly outback creates a system of beliefs that separate people into classes, and the variations amongst class membersâ€� belief systems supplements who we think we are.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

“Quero hoje dizer-te uma coisa, algo que já sei há bastante tempo, e que também tu já sabes, mas talvez ainda não o tenhas dito a ti mesmo. Dir-te-ei agora aquilo que sei a respeito de mim, de ti e do nosso destino. Tu, Harry, foste um artista e um pensador, uma pessoa repleta de alegria e fé, sempre no encalço do grandioso e do eterno, nunca satisfeito com o formoso e o pequeno. Porém, quanto mais a vida te fez despertar e te devolveu a ti mesmo, tanto maior se tornou a tua miséria, mais profundamente te viste mergulhado no sofrimento, na inquietação e no desespero, até ao pescoço, e tudo aquilo que outrora consideraste, amaste e veneraste como belo e sagrado, toda a fé que em tempos tiveste nos seres humanos e no nosso elevado destino foi incapaz de te ajudar, tornou-se inútil e estilhaçou-se. A tua fé deixou de conseguir ter ar para respirar. E a asfixia é uma dura forma de morrer. Não é assim, Harry? É esse o teu destino?”
― Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

“Gloom and anguish is the description of the lives of those who live in darkness”
― Sunday Adelaja

“If you are near ,my heart beats fast,
If you are far, my hearts becomes restless,

When you look at me,my world stops,
When you look away i wish the world to stop.

I can die to see your smile,
I die as i see your tears.

When i see you my mind floods,
When i don't it gets a drought
.”
― Luna Marym

“Pain writes the words, sorrow wields the pen, tears wet the paper, and the story mends the heart.”
― Piper Payne

“Do you rememberâ€�(doesn’t that appear in each of my letters?), do you remember that you spoke of how eagerly you experienced that period when for the first time autumn and winter were to meet you not in the city, but among the trees whose happiness you knew, whose spring and summer rang in your earliest memories and were mingled with everything warm and dear and tender and with the infinitely blissful melancholies of summer evenings and of long, yearning nights of spring. You knew just as much of them as of the dear people in your surroundings, among whom also summer and spring, kindness and happiness were dedicated to you and whose influence held sway above your growing up and maturing, and whose other experiences would touch you only by report and rarely like a shot in the wood of which superstitious folk tell for a long time. But now you were to remain out in the country house that was growing lonely and were to see the beloved trees suffer in the rising wind, and were to see how the dense park is torn apart before the windows and becomes spacious and everywhere, even in very deep places, discloses the sky which, with infinite weariness, lets itself rain and strikes with heavy drops on the aging leaves that are dying in touching humility. And you were to see suffering where until now was only rapture and anticipation, and were to learn to endure dying in the very place where the heart of life had beaten most loudly upon yours. And you were to behave like the grownups who all at once may know everything, yes, who become grown up just because of the fact that even the darkest and saddest things do not have to be hidden from them, that one does not cover up the dead when they enter, nor hide those whose faces are sawed and torn by a sharp pain.â€�

―from letter to Clara Westhoff Schmargendorf (Sunday, November 18, 1900)”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

“My fate is a prison. It's the only one of us who didn't need to inhabit one. I took your responsibility for those souls for you, even though their deaths are your fault. You should be forced to feel what it's like for someone to be imprisoned.”
― Martha Brockenbrough, The Game of Love and Death

“I know what is going on in the heart of an atheist. Deep anguish that there is nothing beyond, nothing to live for, nothing to give him hope. I know because I endured the same predicament.”
― Bangambiki Habyarimana, Pearls Of Eternity

“If you believe that God is good and that He loves you without regard to whom you are or what you do, you will worship Him wholeheartedly. You will praise him with thanksgiving. If you believe He is angry against you, you will come to him with fear and trying to appease his anger. And you don't know when His anger will be over. Such a god keeps you in a perpetual psychological anguish. That is the typical kind of god we usually worship. That is the typical god approved by authority.”
― Bangambiki Habyarimana, Pearls Of Eternity

“I'm my own person, and in that I'm unique. Pain, anguish, those are all just part of the experience. The more you go through, the stronger you become.”
― Kayla Krantz, The Council

“A series of disconcerting questions nibbles at hearts of troubled youths. These same unanswered questions, along with their acerbic toxins, reveal their pungent fumes more frequently and with greater intensity as a person rushes headfirst into life’s concrete jungle.”
― Kilroy J. Oldster

“If it is worth the pain. If it is worth the anguish. Then leave me lying in agony.”
― Saim .A. Cheeda