Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night. — Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night. — Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night. — Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night. — Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night. — Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
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Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.

— Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
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More “Melancholy” Quotes

Only tears can hear the sound of pain when warm blood reddens discolored stain — Munia Khan
A person's true character lies somewhere until after you might have pressed the wrong button without knowing, then you'l — Michael Bassey Johnson
I measure every Grief I meetWith narrow, probing, Eyes;I wonder if It weighs like Mine,Or has an Easier size. — Emily Dickinson
The cloudless day is richer at its close;A golden glory settles on the lea;Soft, stealing shadows hint of cool reposeTo — H.P. Lovecraft
I realised I never wanted to leave her side, and I never wanted her to have to struggle to be released from her sadness. — R.M. Miller, Evening Breeze
My ghost is the only soul who ever comes to cry on my grave... Only the skies cried sincerely on my funeral. — Simona Panova, Nightmarish Sacrifice
I only wanted absolute quiet to think out why I had developed a sad attitude toward sadness, a melancholy attitude towar — F. Scott Fitzgerald, On Booze
Sympathy from strangers can be ruinous. — Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin
Hands that never touch. Lips that never meet. The Almost Lovers, never to be. — Rae Hachton, Frankie's Monster
Our sadness won’t be of the searing kind but more like a blend of joy and melancholy: joy at the perfection we see befor — Alain de Botton, The Architecture of Happiness
Because memories fall apart, too. And then you're left with nothing, left not even with a ghost but with its shadow. In — John Green, Looking for Alaska
If you close your eyes when you sing in Latin, and if you stand right at the back so you can keep one hand against the c — Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I'm Home