{"quotes":[{"text":"Those who do not care, escape the anguish of mourning but never know the delights of love. The meaning of life forever eludes them.","author":"Wayne Gerard Trotman","tags":["anguish","caring","compassion","death","grief","grief-and-loss","love","loving","meaning-of-life","mourning","quotable","sacrifice","vulnerability"],"id":10944,"author_id":"Wayne+Gerard+Trotman"},{"text":"Oh, Starbuck! It is a mild, mild wind, and a mild looking sky. On such a day - very much such a sweetness as this - I struck my first whale - a boy-harpooneer of eighteen! Forty - forty - forty years ago! - ago! Forty years of continual whaling! Forty years of privation, and peril, and storm-time! Forty years on the pitiless sea! For forty years has Ahab forsaken the peaceful land, for forty years to make war on the horrors of the deep! Aye and yes, Starbuck, out of those forty years I have not spent three ashore. When I think of this life I have led; the desolation of solitude it has been; the masoned, walled-town of a Captain's exclusiveness, which admits but small entrance to any sympathy from the green country without - oh, weariness! Heaviness! Guinea-coast slavery of solitary command! - when I think of all this; only half-suspected, not so keenly known to me before - and how for forty years I have fed upon dry salted fare - fit emblem of the dry nourishment of my soul - when the poorest landsman has had fresh fruit to his daily hand, and broken the world's fresh bread to my mouldy crusts - away, whole oceans away, from that young girl-wife I wedded past fifty, and sailed for Cape Horn the next day, leaving but one dent in my marriage pillow - wife? Wife? - rather a widow with her husband alive! Aye, I widowed that poor girl when I married her, Starbuck; and then, the madness, the frenzy, the boiling blood and the smoking brow, with which, for a thousand lowerings old Ahab has furiously, foamingly chased his prey - more a demon than a man! - aye, aye! What a forty years' fool - fool - old fool, has old Ahab been! Why this strife of the chase? Why weary, and palsy the arm at the oar, and the iron, and the lance? How the richer or better is Ahab now? Behold. Oh, Starbuck! Is it not hard, that with this weary load I bear, one poor leg should have been snatched from under me? Here, brush this old hair aside; it blinds me, that I seem to weep. Locks so grey did never grow but from out some ashes! But do I look very old, so very, very old, Starbuck? I feel deadly faint, bowed, and humped, as though I were Adam, staggering beneath the piled centuries since Paradise. God! God! God! - crack my heart! - stave my brain! - mockery! Mockery! Bitter, biting mockery of grey hairs, have I lived enough joy to wear ye; and seem and feel thus intolerably old? Close! Stand close to me, Starbuck; let me look into a human eye; it is better than to gaze into sea or sky; better than to gaze upon God. By the green land; by the bright hearth-stone! This is the magic glass, man; I see my wife and my child in thine eye. No, no; stay on board, on board! - lower not when I do; when branded Ahab gives chase to Moby Dick. That hazard shall not be thine. No, no! Not with the far away home I see in that eye!","author":"Herman Melville","tags":["anguish","insanity","nostalgia","sorrow"],"id":11990,"author_id":"Herman+Melville"},{"text":"So that you will hear memy wordssometimes grow thinas the tracks of the gulls on the beaches.Necklace, drunken bellfor your hands smooth as grapes.And I watch my words from a long way off.They are more yours than mine.They climb on my old suffering like ivy.It climbs the same way on damp walls.You are to blame for this cruel sport.They are fleeing from my dark lair.You fill everything, you fill everything.Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy,and they are more used to my sadness than you are.Now I want them to say what I want to say to youto make you hear as I want you to hear me.The wind of anguish still hauls on them as usual.Sometimes hurricanes of dreams still knock them over.You listen to other voices in my painful voice.Lament of old mouths, blood of old supplications.Love me, companion. Don't forsake me. Follow me.Follow me, companion, on this wave of anguish.But my words become stained with your love.You occupy everything, you occupy everything.I am making them into an endless necklacefor your white hands, smooth as grapes.","author":"Pablo Neruda","tags":["anguish","companionship","despair","loneliness","love","so-that-you-will-hear-me"],"id":14879,"author_id":"Pablo+Neruda"},{"text":"The utter unbroken silence was more appalling than any ominous noise, than the loudest yells of anguish, than the most piercing screaming...Dead silence.Literally dead.","author":"Simona Panova","tags":["anguish","appalling","appealing","atmosphere","atmospheric","calm","calmness","dead","death","goth","gothic","gothic-romance","literal","literally","loud","mysterious","mystery","noise","noiseless","onimous","pain","painful","quiet","romance","romantic","serene","silence","silent","sinister","suspense","tranquil","unbroken","yell","young-adult"],"id":23410,"author_id":"Simona+Panova"},{"text":"The nature of anguish is translated into different forms.","author":"Franz Kline","tags":["different","forms","anguish "],"id":26206,"author_id":"Franz+Kline"},{"text":"Other people's sorrows and joys have a way of reminding us of our own; we partly empathize with them because we ask ourselves: What about me? What does that say about my life, my pains, my anguish?","author":"Azar Nafisi","tags":["anguish","empathy","joy","life","pain","sorrow"],"id":31260,"author_id":"Azar+Nafisi"},{"text":"I suppose that the human mind can only stand so much grief and anguish. After that the fuses blow.","author":"Fynn","tags":["anguish","brain","grief","human-mind"],"id":36620,"author_id":"Fynn"},{"text":"Don't cry for someone who would love smiling when your tears are flowing.","author":"Michael Bassey Johnson","tags":["anguish","betrayal","breakup","cry","crying","infatuation","love","ridicule","smiles","smiling","tears","unreciprocated-love","unreturned-love","untruth"],"id":48361,"author_id":"Michael+Bassey+Johnson"},{"text":"That is when time stands still - when you watch the one you love, walk away.","author":"Mallika Nawal","tags":["anguish","breakups","heartache","heartbreak","love","love-hurts","lovers-sadness","separation"],"id":57395,"author_id":"Mallika+Nawal"},{"text":"Now you are walking in Paris all alone in the crowdAs herds of bellowing buses drive byLove's anguish tightens your throatAs if you were never to be loved againIf you lived in the old days you would enter a monasteryYou are ashamed when you discover yourself reciting a prayerYou make fun of yourself and like the fire of Hell your laughter cracklesThe sparks of your laugh gild the depths of your lifeIt's a painting hanging in a dark museumAnd sometimes you go and look at it close up.","author":"Guillaume Apollinaire","tags":["anguish","city","crowd","laughing","laughter","love","monastery","museum","painting","paris","prayer","praying"],"id":67707,"author_id":"Guillaume+Apollinaire"}],"pagination":{"page":1,"page_size":10,"total":77,"pages":8,"next":"?page=2\u0026page_size=10"}}