I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
quote by Agatha Christie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
quote by Agatha Christie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable ... but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
quote by Agatha Christie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pallid Cuckoo
Dolefully and drearily
Come I with the spring;
Wearily and cerily
My threnody I sing.
Hear my drear, discordant note
Sobbing, sobbing in my throat,
Weaving, wailing thro' the wattles
Where the builders are a-wing.
Outcast and ostracized,
Miserable me!
By the feathered world despised,
Chased from tree to tree.
Nought to do the summer thro',
My woeful weird a dree;
Singing, 'Pity, ah, pity,
Miserable me!'
I'm the menace and the warning,
Loafing, labour-shy.
In the harmony of morning
Out of tune am I-
Out of tune and out of work,
Meanly 'mid the leaves I lurk,
Fretfully to sing my sorrow,
Furtively to spy.
Outcast and desolate,
Miserable me!
Earning ever scorn and hate
For my treachery.
Shiftless drone, I grieve alone,
To a mournful key
Singing, 'Sorrow, ah, sorrow!
Miserable me!'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Miserable is a good thing, though. If you start the day miserable, nobody else can screw up your day.
quote by Jake Roberts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Number Five With A Bullet
We're gonna die like this you know
miserable and old
really gotta hand it to you
really gotta hand it to you
are you positive
absolutely sure
well just get dressed, don't do this
just get dressed, don't do this
spend the night lit listening to miles davis
you said it makes you want to fall in love
or be smart enough to keep your distance
you can't decide, you can't decide
we're gonna die like this you know
miserable and old
really gotta hand it to you
really gotta hand it to you
(well just so you know)
are you positive
(when we get home)
absolutely sure
(we're through)
well just get dressed, don't do this
(we're through)
just get dressed, don't do this
it's a long way back south
(to where i belong)
well you've been there once or twice
(and you still don't like it)
i say you just never gave it a chance
(well give me a chance, give me a chance)
besides did you ever stop to think
that we could keep this up living like theives
(but you can't decide)
you can't decide
(no you can't decide)
well you can't decide
we're gonna die like this you know
(we're gonna die like this)
miserable and old
(miserable and old)
really gotta hand it to you
(miserable and old)
really gotta hand it to you
(well just so you know)
are you positive
(when we get home)
absolutely sure
(we're through)
well just get dressed, don't do this
(we're through)
just get dressed, don't do this
are you positive, absolutely sure
are you positive
we're gonna die like this you know
miserable and old
really gotta hand it to you
really gotta hand it to you
well just so you know
(we're gonna die like this you know)
when we get home
(miserable and old)
we're through
(really gotta hand it to you)
we're through
(really gotta hand it to you)
just so you know
(are you positive)
when we get home
(aboslutely sure)
we're through
(just get dressed don't do this)
we're through
(just get dressed don't do this)
well just so you know
(we're gonna die like this you know)
when we get home
(miserable and old)
we're through
(we'regonna die like this, miserable and old)
we're through
(miserable and old)
well just so you know
(we're gonna die like this you know)
when we get home
(miserable and old)
we're through
(we're gonna die like this, miserable and old)
we're through
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is why
Living with my sorrow,
living with my happiness,
living with my tears,
living with my laughter.
Laughing over sorrow,
laughing for my happiness,
laughing over tears,
Laughing for my love.
Loving in my sorrow,
Loving because of happiness,
loving in my tears,
loving because of life and laughter.
So many reasons,
To live,
so many reasons,
to laugh,
and even more,
to love.
I am alive with laughter and tears,
I am alive with sorrow and happiness,
this is why I live,
this is why I laugh,
this is why I love,
this is why.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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Given my last position, that I was the first U.S attorney post 9/11 in New Jersey, I understand acutely the pain and sorrow and upset of the family members who lost loved ones that day at the hands of radical Muslim extremists. And their sensitivities and concerns have to be taken into account.
quote by Chris Christie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My weakness
Dark, dark, dark
That what I see
And what I feel
Pain sorrow miserable
Are living in my heart
Everything around me
It so dark
Even though I try so hard
To find some light
But the only thing that appear
Is the lonely dark
I closed my eyes
And listen hardly
But the only thing
That I can hear
Is the silent of the death?
I open my mouth
Try to shout and scream
No voice is coming out
I’m so scared
And lonely
I feel so weak
My hand and legs
Start shaking
My tears fall down
I try to stop it
But it won’t stop
So I lay down
And cry like a baby
That lost from his mother
Wishing that some one
Will take my hand
And tell me it’s ok
You not alone
I’m with you
But that only a wish
It won’t come true
So I give up and closed my eyes
Waiting for my destiny
With my tears running in peace
poem by Nouri Queen
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What a miserable thing life is: you're living in clover, only the clover isn't good enough.
quote by Bertolt Brecht
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The mark of a living thing is to be involved in opposites (impossibilities): the living cell that has to be continually adapting itself to stay alive, with its identity.
quote by Nicholas Mosley
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All These Words and What Have I Done with Them?
All these words
And what have I done with them?
No one cares
And no one has been helped
And no one has found in them
What I wanted there to be in them.
All these words
And what is worse perhaps
The years ahead
To still try and write
The real thing
And go on failing more despairingly.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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All Living Things
The sea…a living sentient thing
As is the Earth…an organism alive
For who’s to say that oceans don’t think
And that planets don’t strive to survive
That trees and leaves have no feelings
And rocks…no emotions
That waves could’na be the heartbeat and…
The pulse of vibrant oceans
That canyons be not wrinkles
That mountains are not just features
That constellations…and galaxies
Not simply grand cosmic creatures
That lakes are not eyes
Valleys not ears
Volcanoes not simply pimples
Nor the rain…Terra’s tears
As atoms…to universes
Meteor storms…to hail
The only true difference is…
A slight matter… of scale
Only the out-sized ego of…
man can stubbornly deny
Only stifled imaginations
Sterile, dusty and dry
Only minds conditioned
to not even strive…fail
To acknowledge that all and everything
That exists…is in it’s own way, alive
poem by David Whalen
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Sorrow
With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you was sorrow
Sorrow
You acted funny trying to spend my money
Youre out there playing your high class games of sorrow
Sorrow
You never do what you know you oughta
Something tells me youre a devils daughter
Sorrow, sorrow
Ahhhh, oo, oooo
I tried to find her
cause I cant resist her (I tried to find her)
I never knew just how much I missed her
Sorrow
Sorrow
With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
The only thing I ever got from you was sorrow
Sorrow
Oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh, ho-ho
With your long blonde hair
I couldnt sleep last night
With your long blonde hair
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
Hu hu hu
Hu hu hu yeah
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Miss Sorrow
She had those magic eyes
You could see from miles aroud
She wore her summer dresses bright
Quite like the sky
She always came in colours
All smiles in daffodils
She let her hair down in the breez
But every little thing has changed today
Little Miss Sorrow
Every little thing turned pale and faded
Little Miss Sorrow
The sunlight doesn't show
All the colours go out through the window
She used to go out dancing
Cool silver fingernails
I used to watch her fron the bar
Following her car
She always came in colours
She always kept control
She painted yesterday in gold
But every little thing turned grey today
Little Miss Sorrow
Every little thing turned pale and faded
Little Miss Sorrow
The sunlight doesn't show
All the colours go even the rainbow
Allow me to introduce myself
I'm just a local boy
She was my Little Miss Joy
I want to call her name
My life won't be the same, Dear God
Every little thing has changed today
Little Miss Sorrow
Every little thing turned pale and faded
Little Miss Sorrow
Yes, every little thing turned grey today
Little Miss Sorrow
The weakling plays the strong
The bird forgot the song
What's going on?
What's going on?
Tell me, what's going on?
What's going on?
What's going on?
Tell me, what's going on?
From album
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Couplet
Oh Khusrau, the river of love runs in strange directions.
One who jumps into it drowns, and one who drowns, gets across.
1
The creaking of the chain of Majnun is the orchestra of the lovers,
To appreciate its music is quite beyond the ears of the wise.
2
If I cannot see her, at least I can think of her, and so be happy;
To light the beggar's hut no candle is better than moonlight.
3
My heart is a wanderer in love, may it ever remain so.
My life's been rendered miserable in love, may it grow more and more miserable.
4
People think they are alive because they have soul in them,
But I am alive because I have love in myself,
And I'm a martyr due to the beloved's affliction,
(for, to a lover, nothing is dearer than
the affliction brought forth by the beloved) .
5
My beloved speaks Turkish, and Turkish I do not know;
How I wish if her tongue would have been in my mouth.
6
Old age and lovemaking do not go together;
But O Khusrau, you still remain a proof against this reasoning.
7
If there is a paradise on earth,
It is this, it is this, it is this
8
You look sleepless, in whose embrace did you pass the night;
Your intoxicated eye has still the signs of tipsiness.
9
The dust of your doorstep is just the right thing to apply,
If Surmah (kohl powder) does not show its beauty in the eye!
10
How can her eyes reflect any sympathy, with my night-long wakefulness?
For she herself knows of nothing, in the night, except sleeping.
11
I have become you, and you me, I am the body, you soul;
So that no one can say hereafter, that you are someone, and me someone else.
poem by Amir Khusro
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My grand dad
I remember you grand dad
Back since I was only three
I remember you granddad
How much you adored me
I remember you grand dad
How you made me smile
I remember you grand dad
You made my toddler years worthwhile
I remember you grand dad
Your lovely smell of tobacco
I remember you grand dad
The love for others you would show
I remember you grand dad
When I came to see you, you would give me a jellybean
I remember you grand dad
You always made me feel like a queen
I remember you grand dad
And I miss you everyday
To Debby On The Death Of Her Dad
To say sorry seems such an easy thing to say
But from you that won't take your sense of loss away
You have been burdened with a heavy cross
And time alone can only heal your sense of loss.
Old 98 for you it ended bad
The grim reaper from you he took your dad
I only can imagine how you must feel
But time the scars of sorrow always heal.
You've lost the hero of your childhood years
And he was one well worthy of your tears
But Debby your tears will bring to you relief
And help to heal your mental scars of grief.
Your father was a man I never knew
But he was one who meant so much to you
The life breath from his body may be gone
But his soul alive and well and living on.
I'm one of those with words who like to play
And to say sorry such an easy thing to say
And I can't feel the sense of loss you feel
And time itself the only thing that heal.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Children And Me
when they see me
alll the children address me
daddy daddy
grand daddy
come daddy daddy come
but ı have not a real child
though all the children are mine
I treat them like mine
aöm I SO OLD
ı SOMETİ MES SUSPECT
but nobody accepts
eldering easily
all living thing
never wants to get older...never
but am I so old
as when
chidren see me
address..
daddy...dady..daddy..
or grand daddy
what a wonderful sight
of a just walking baby
leaning towards me
from her mother bosom
when alll the children see me
they address me
daddy...daddy..dady.
or grand daddy
ı s there a secret relatı on
between the children and me
do you know
can you guess
and tell me
poem by Metin Sahin
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The Chequered Flag
The the disc brakes drag, the chequered flag sweeps across the oil-slick track. the young man's home; dry as a bone. his helmet off, he waves: the crowd waves back. one lap victory roll. gladiat
Ul. the taker of the day in winning has to say, isn't it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive. the sunlight streaks through the curtain cracks, touches the old man where he sleeps. th
Se brings up a cup of tea --- two biscuits and the morning paper mystery. the hard road's end, the white god's-send is nearer everyday, in dying the old man says, isn't it grand to be playing to
Stand, dead or alive. the still-born child can't feel the rain as the chequered flag falls once again. the deaf composer completes his final score. he'll never hear the sweet encore. the chequer
Ag, the bull's red rag, the lemming-hearted hordes running ever faster to the shore singing, isn't it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorrow Under Mist
Mist -
Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -
Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.
In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.
We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.
But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.
Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Sorrow Rain
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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