Sadness and Melancholy

What a miserable thing life is: you’re living in clover, only the clover isn’t good enough.

While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert it only irritates. You must wait till grief be digested , and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.

I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size.

A melancholy-looking man, he had the appearance of one who has searched for the leak in life's gas-pipe with a lighted candle.

I hardly ever felt as alienated from people as I do right now… The worst is that nowhere is there anything with which one can identify. Brutality and lies are everywhere.

For oft, when on my couch I lie

The world of the happy is quite different from that of the unhappy.

And alien tears will fill for him

I never saw a man who looked

Sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt.

Il pleure dans mon coeur

And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose

I was much too far out all my life

Still falls the Rain—

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,

And ever changing, like a joyless eye

Alas! that all we loved of him should be,

Winter is come and gone,

I weep for Adonais—he is dead!

I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils,

Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy

Hence, loathèd Melancholy,

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell

I got the Weary Blues