Thomas Bernhard Quotes

In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality.

Does the world have nothing inside but sorrow?

We don't live in the Garden. We live far from Eden. Every life is full of heartaches. Every life, frankly, is unspeakably sad.

The flesh, alas, is sad, and I have read all the books.

There is a lot of sadness in America.

My suffering left me sad and gloomy.

I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.

I might look successful and happy being in front of you today, but I once suffered from severe depression and was in total despair.

The world is a heartbreaking place, without any question.

I'm incapable of feeling any joy.

I speak of a clinical depression that is the background of your entire life, a background of anguish and anxiety, a sense that nothing goes well, that pleasure is unavailable and all your strategies collapse.

I am as miserable as anyone - sometimes.

Life is hard. Not great. Kind of tragic.

I'm here to be lovesick, broke and drifting, writing heartache songs and singing about pain and misery and depression, with a few good times here and there.

It's very hard to be happy when you've lost.

The best anti-depressant pill for me would be one the size of a house so you could drop it on me and put me out of my misery.

I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were felt by the whole human race, there would not be one cheerful face left on earth.

Melancholy: an appetite no misery satisfies.

Misery is wasted on the miserable.

Life is the saddest thing there is, next to death.

I'll never be happy. I believe I'll die alone. I would want it that way. I've been a loner all my life with my secrets and my pain. I'm really lost, but I'm trying to find myself. I'm really a sad, pathetic case. My whole life has been a waste. I've been a failure. I just want to escape.

There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.

There is only one prospect worse than being chained to an intolerable existence: The nightmare of a botched attempt to end it.

One bitter time of mourning, I remember, When day, and night, my sad heart did complain, My life, I said, was one cold, bleak December, And all its pleasures, were but whited pain.