Hope is a fine killing thing. — Kirryn Lia Todd, Bruised Opulence
Hope is a fine killing thing. — Kirryn Lia Todd, Bruised Opulence
Hope is a fine killing thing. — Kirryn Lia Todd, Bruised Opulence
Hope is a fine killing thing. — Kirryn Lia Todd, Bruised Opulence
Hope is a fine killing thing. — Kirryn Lia Todd, Bruised Opulence
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Hope is a fine killing thing.

— Kirryn Lia Todd, Bruised Opulence
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despair hope

More “Despair” Quotes

Who would care if I became pregnant, who would be scandalized? Aunty Eva, Anwar's flatmates. Omar would never know unles — Leila Aboulela, Minaret
I felt as though my mind and heart had been dragged through a thicket of rose bushes and caught on every little thorn. — Laura Lam, Pantomime
Women get desperate, but they don't understand despair. — William Gaddis, The Recognitions
...The discrepancy is that the ethical self should be found immanently in the despair, that the individual won himself b — Søren Kierkegaard, Concluding Unscientific Postscript
No loss is big enough to lose hope for tommorrow. — Mandeep Singh Randhawa
Merry’s mind devolved into chaos. Ideas evaded her. Words chased one another into meaningless jumbles. Her breath came i — Susan Catalano, The Timeless Ones
In the moments of your deepest need, despair and desperation, what you need more than any other thing, is calm and faith — Bryant McGill, Simple Reminders: Inspiration for Living Your Best Life
When you run out of hope, everything is backwards. Your heart wants the opposite of what it needs. — Andrew Peterson, The Warden and the Wolf King
[Deserters], they've given up everything. Oaths. Families. When you desert, it breaks you. It leaves you willing to do a — Brandon Sanderson, Words of Radiance
Down below people were clipping by going nowhere fast. You could feel the long despairing history of the place. You coul — Sol Luckman, Beginner's Luke
..giving into despair was like eating poisonous berries to keep from feeling hungry. — Shannon Hale, Forest Born
And leaning on the windowsill to enjoy the day, gazing at the variegated mass of the whole city, just one thought fills — Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet