To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate? — Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
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To toil, to think, to long, to grieve,—Is such my future fate?The morn was dreary, must the eveBe also desolate?

— Charlotte Brontë, Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell
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More “Despair” Quotes

Your shadow is bought and paid for, and your death will not remit that payment. You can go shadowless into the shadowles — Erin Bow, Plain Kate
Was that what it was really like to be alive? The feeling of darkness dragging you forward?How could they live with it? — Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man
Signý knew she would die a thousand deaths upon seeing another woman with him, bearing his children, raising them with h — Farrah Naseem
Death, he felt, was only a kind of warning rather than a desperate and permanent end. — László Krasznahorkai
Make your life an inspiring story meant to be read in bed during a sleepless night of despair. — Debasish Mridha
Why wait to forgive and let go only after you have sufficiently wallowed in your despair? Why not forgive and let go now — Kamand Kojouri
May we always be burdened with thinking of the suffering of others, for that is what it means to be human. — Kamand Kojouri
This is the way the world endsNot with a bang but a whimper. — T.S. Eliot
The last thing one discovers in composing a work is what to put first. — Blaise Pascal, Pensées
It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse. — Ezra Pound
I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— The — John Clare, "I Am": The Selected Poetry of John Clare
The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,White as a knuckle and terribly upset.It drags the sea after it like — Sylvia Plath, Ariel