Helplessly Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
screaming-helplessly-and-being-ignored
the-unphilosophical-majority-among-men-are-ones-most-helplessly-dependent-on-their-eras-dominant-ideas
as-for-you-my-beloved-friend-i-loyally-believe-in-your-uniqueness-but-whenever-i-try-to-tell-to-you-wherein-it-consists-i-helplessly-describe-only-type
it-is-impossible-to-talk-to-write-without-apparently-throwing-oneself-helplessly-open-herman-melville
the-mice-which-helplessly-find-themselves-between-cats-teeth-acquire-no-merit-from-their-enforced-sacrifice-mahatma-gandhi
but-every-now-then-when-i-steal-glance-at-girl-feel-her-eyes-on-me-i-helplessly-drift-back-to-thinking-about-her-marie-lu
reading-is-sole-means-by-which-we-slip-involuntarily-often-helplessly-into-anothers-skin-anothers-voice-anothers-soul-joyce-carol-oates
i-cant-fight-sun-i-can-only-watch-helplessly-as-it-drags-me-into-day-that-ive-been-dreading-for-months-katniss-everdeen-suzanne-collins
books-fashion-nets-to-sustain-support-reader-as-he-falls-helplessly-through-chaos-his-own-existence-fay-weldon
poor-brain-how-helplessly-it-dissolves-when-willing-eyes-meet-nose-warms-to-those-old-jungle-scents-arthur-miller
the-scent-you-spread-i-know-well-could-leave-me-dead-hopelessly-mesmerized-your-bite-will-mean-end-to-me-can-you-see-im-helplessly-hypnotized-venom
go-on-he-offered-magnanimously-feel-free-to-piss-on-yourselves-cower-helplessly-gods-sometimes-his-generosity-overwhelmed-him-ga-aiken
i-love-you-bill-said-helplessly-as-if-he-wished-those-magic-words-would-heal-me-but-he-knew-they-wouldnt-thats-what-you-all-keep-saying-i-answered-but-charlaine-harris
people-want-the-right-to-die-at-a-time-of-their-own-choosing-too-many-families-have-watched-helplessly-as-a-relative-dies-slowly-longing-for-death
turn-your-midlife-crisis-to-your-own-advantage-by-making-it-time-for-renewal-your-body-mind-rather-than-stand-by-helplessly-watch-them-decline-jane-brody
theres-something-depressing-about-young-couple-helplessly-in-love-their-state-is-perfect-it-must-be-doomed-they-project-such-qualities-on-their-roger-ebert
to-enjoy-freedom-we-have-course-to-control-ourselves-we-must-not-squander-our-powers-helplessly-ignorantly-squirting-half-house-in-order-to-water-virginia-woolf
the-party-blundered-helplessly-across-sky-like-man-leaning-against-unexpectedly-open-door-it-spun-wobbled-on-its-hover-jets-it-tried-to-right-itself-wronged-itself-instead-dougla
ben-made-me-laugh-i-was-attracted-to-his-attraction-for-me-way-he-smiled-for-instance-whenever-he-saw-me-that-goofy-kind-grin-that-hijacks-face-helplessly-smitten-cheryl-drake-ha
domestic-violence-was-way-life-in-my-home-growing-up-my-brother-i-watched-helplessly-numerous-times-as-my-mother-was-beaten-knocked-unconscious-troy-vincent
we-are-never-so-defenseless-against-suffering-as-when-we-love-never-so-helplessly-unhappy-as-when-we-have-lost-our-loved-object-or-its-love
ours-is-century-enforced-travel-disappearances-the-century-people-helplessly-seeing-others-who-were-close-to-them-disappear-over-horizon-john-berger
were-taught-to-expect-unconditional-love-from-our-parents-but-i-think-it-is-more-gift-our-children-give-us-its-they-who-love-us-helplessly-no-matter-kathryn-harrison
will-had-shrugged-once-helplessly-he-had-almost-wished-jem-would-be-angry-with-him-it-would-have-been-easier-hed-never-felt-small-within-himself-as-he-did-when-he-faced-jems-expa
it-is-better-to-understand-part-truth-apply-it-to-our-lives-than-to-understand-nothing-at-all-flounder-helplessly-in-vain-attempt-to-pierce-jawaharlal-nehru
yet-this-thou-art-alive-but-if-ye-soar-my-poor-frail-heart-will-have-beat-out-its-cry-and-sadly-miss-thy-sweet-form-all-more-while-helplessly-i-stand-watch-you-die-timothy-salter
in-too-many-cases-moms-dads-sisters-brothers-children-with-cancer-must-stand-by-hospital-bed-watch-helplessly-as-this-horrible-disease-consumes-michael-mccaul
turbulence-like-many-forms-trouble-cannot-always-be-seen-we-bounce-hard-my-arms-sail-helplessly-above-my-head-in-evolution-wing-bones-became-arms-gretel-ehrlich
drug-cartels-have-taken-drivers-seat-training-our-young-men-women-on-how-best-to-self-destruct-while-larger-community-watches-on-helplessly-as-these-bands-renegades-lead-our-peop
in-this-world-family-is-final-most-elemental-unit-power-a-small-group-helplessly-bound-together-by-blood-with-shared-set-skills-tools-for-consolidating-power-subjugating-others-j
i-basked-in-you-i-loved-you-helplessly-with-boundless-tonguetied-love-and-death-doesnt-prevent-me-from-loving-you-besides-in-my-opinion-you-arent-dead-i-know-dead-people-you-are-
a-hedgehog-and-just-how-does-hedgehog-make-love-he-demanded-no-i-thought-i-wont-i-will-not-but-i-did-very-carefully-i-replied-giggling-helplessly-so-now-we-know-just-how-old-that
im-reluctantly-interested-in-love-helplessly-interested-in-logic-yet-theyre-conflicting-and-theyre-both-necessary-for-happy-balance-happy-laura-marling
its-difficult-to-know-where-to-begin-sir-yes-beginning-is-tricky-part-but-perhaps-there-is-no-beginning-perhaps-we-cant-look-that-far-back-he-got-up-from-his-desk-went-over-to-wi
it-was-kojagar-full-moon-i-was-slowly-pacing-riverside-conversing-with-myself-it-could-hardly-be-called-conversation-as-i-was-doing-all-talking-my-imaginary-companion-all-listeni
I said, somewhat confused, 'What's the problem?' [Kristy] rolled her eyes. Beside her, Monica said, 'Donneven.' 'Kristy.' Delia shook her head. 'This isn't the time or the place, okay?' 'The time or the place for what?' Caroline asked. 'There is never, ' Kristy said adamantly, 'a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.' 'Throbbing?' my mother said, leaning forward and looking at me. 'Who's throbbing?' 'Macy and Wes, ' Kristy told her. 'We are not, ' I said indignantly. 'Kristy, ' Delia said helplessly. 'Please God I'm begging you, not now.' 'Wait a second, wait a second.' Caroline held her hands up. 'Kristy. Explain.' 'Yes, Kristy, ' my mother said, but she was looking at me. Not really mad as much as confused. Join the club, I thought. 'Explain.' Bert said, 'This ought to be good.' Kristy ignored him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 'Wes wants to be with Macy. And Macy, whether she'll admit it or not, wants to be with Wes. And yet they're not together, which is not only unjust, but really, when you think about it, tragical.' 'That's not a word, ' Bert pointed out. 'It is now, ' she said. 'How else can you explain a situation where Wes, a truly extraordinary boy, would be sent packing in favor of some brainiac loser... ' 'Why, ' I said, feeling embarrassed, 'do we have to keep talking about this?' 'Because it's tragical!' Kristy said... 'I'll tell you what it is. It's wrong. You should be with Wes, Macy. The whole time you guys were hanging out, talking about how you were both with other people, it was so obvious to everyone. It was even obvious to Wes. You were the only one who couldn't see it, just like you can't see it now.' 'Mmm-hmm, ' Monica said aloud.

Sarah Dessen
i-said-somewhat-confused-whats-problem-kristy-rolled-her-eyes-beside-her-monica-said-donneven-kristy-delia-shook-her-head-this-isnt-time-place-okay-the-time-place-for-what-caroli
The door suddenly jerks open. A wideeyed teenager bursts out. She stares at me in dazed horror. In a strange way, I both know and don't know what has just happened. As the fragments begin to converge, they convey a horrible reality: I must have been hit by this car as I entered the crosswalk. In confused disbelief, I sink back into a hazy twilight. I find that I am unable to think clearly or to will myself awake from this nightmare. A man rushes to my side and drops to his knees. He announces himself as an off-duty paramedic. When I try to see where the voice is coming from, he sternly orders, 'Don't move your head.' The contradiction between his sharp command and what my body naturally wants-to turn toward his voice-frightens and stuns me into a sort of paralysis. My awareness strangely splits, and I experience an uncanny 'dislocation.' It's as if I'm floating above my body, looking down on the unfolding scene. I am snapped back when he roughly grabs my wrist and takes my pulse. He then shifts his position, directly above me. Awkwardly, he grasps my head with both of his hands, trapping it and keeping it from moving. His abrupt actions and the stinging ring of his command panic me; they immobilize me further. Dread seeps into my dazed, foggy consciousness: Maybe I have a broken neck, I think. I have a compelling impulse to find someone else to focus on. Simply, I need to have someone's comforting gaze, a lifeline to hold onto. But I'm too terrified to move and feel helplessly frozen.

Peter A. Levine
the-door-suddenly-jerks-open-a-wideeyed-teenager-bursts-out-she-stares-at-me-in-dazed-horror-in-strange-way-i-both-know-dont-know-what-has-just-happened-as-fragments-begin-to-con
I paid the taxi driver, got out with my suitcase, surveyed my surroundings, and just as I was turning to ask the driver something or get back into the taxi and return forthwith to Chille¡n and then to Santiago, it sped off without warning, as if the somewhat ominous solitude of the place had unleashed atavistic fears in the driver's mind. For a moment I too was afraid. I must have been a sorry sight standing there helplessly with my suitcase from the seminary, holding a copy of Farewell's Anthology in one hand. Some birds flew out from behind a clump of trees. They seemed to be screaming the name of that forsaken village, Querquen, but they also seemed to be enquiring who: quien, quien, quien. I said a hasty prayer and headed for a wooden bench, there to recover a composure more in keeping with what I was, or what at the time I considered myself to be. Our Lady, do not abandon your servant, I murmured, while the black birds, about twenty-five centimetres in length, cried quien, quien, quien. Our Lady of Lourdes, do not abandon your poor priest, I murmured, while other birds, about ten centimetres long, brown in colour, or brownish, rather, with white breasts, called out, but not as loudly, quien, quien, quien, Our Lady of Suffering, Our Lady of Insight, Our Lady of Poetry, do not leave your devoted subject at the mercy of the elements, I murmured, while several tiny birds, magenta, black, fuchsia, yellow and blue in colour, wailed quien, quien, quien, at which point a cold wind sprang up suddenly, chilling me to the bone.

Roberto Bolae±o
i-paid-taxi-driver-got-out-with-my-suitcase-surveyed-my-surroundings-just-as-i-was-turning-to-ask-driver-something-get-back-into-taxi-return-forthwith-to-chillen-then-to-santiago
William sees it all happen again. The pain is not in the event. The subjection to it and his powerless state each time is where his anguish lies. He is unable to influence the situation, despite his desire. He sees the nest outside his house. He sees the baby bird that fell. The mother bird cries frantically for her lost chick. William knows as he approaches the chick that if he touches it his scent will linger, and the mother will reject it. Circling around the fallen creature William hopes it will flee from him, back toward the tree from which it had fallen. His presence only intensifies the creature's fear. It speeds to his left, heading for the street. Again William tries to flank the bird, but it is too frightened to return to the nest. The chick's mother wails vainly. William walks into the street trying to herd the bird to safety. The stop light a block away has just turned green. The driver accelerates. William moves from the car's path and it runs over the bird. The momentum from its wake lifts the bird to the underside of the car, breaking its neck, but not killing it. William watches the bird roll helplessly. It is silent for a second, before it begins to whimper. Its contorted head dangles limply from its body. The noise is tragic. The bird's mother hears the chick's pain, but nothing can be done. She laments. A second speeder crushes the chick, leaving only a wet feathered spot in the street. As the cars continue to pass, only one bird is heard. A mother's grief falls deafly on an unconcerned world.

M.R. Gott
william-sees-it-all-happen-again-the-pain-is-not-in-event-the-subjection-to-it-his-powerless-state-each-time-is-where-his-anguish-lies-he-is-unable-to-influence-situation-despite
Walk openly, Marian used to say. Love even the threat and the pain, feel yourself fully alive, cast a bold shadow, accept, accept. What we call evil is only a groping towards good, part of the trial and error by which we move toward the perfected consciousness... God is kind? Life is good? Nature never did betray the heart that loved her? Why the reward she received for living intensely and generously and trying to die with dignity? Why the horror at the bridge her last clear sight of earth?... I do not accept, I am not reconciled. But one thing she did. She taught me the stupidity of the attempt to withdraw and be free of trouble and harm... She said, 'You wondered what was in whale's milk. Now you know. Think of the force down there, just telling things to get born, just to be!' I had had no answer for her then. Now I might have one. Yes, think of it, I might say. And think how random and indiscriminate it is, think how helplessly we must submit, think how impossible it is to control or direct it. Think how often beauty and delicacy and grace are choked out by weeds. Think how endless and dubious is the progress from weed to flower. Even alive, she never convinced me with her advocacy of biological perfectionism. She never persuaded me to ignore, or look upon as merely hard pleasures, the evil that I felt in every blight and smut and pest in my garden- that I felt, for that matter, squatting like a toad on my own heart. Think of the force of life, yes, but think of the component of darkness in it. One of the things that's in whale's milk is the promise of pain and death. And so? Admitting what is so obvious, what then? Would I wipe Marion Catlin out of my unperfected consciousness if I could? Would I forgo the pleasure of her company to escape the bleakness of her loss? Would I go back to my own formula, which was twilight sleep, to evade the pain she brought with her? Not for a moment. And so even in the gnashing of my teeth, I acknowledge my conversion. It turns out to be for me as I once told her it would be for her daughter. I shall be richer all my life for this sorrow.

Wallace Stegner
walk-openly-marian-used-to-say-love-even-threat-pain-feel-yourself-fully-alive-cast-bold-shadow-accept-accept-what-we-call-evil-is-only-groping-towards-good-part-trial-error-by-w
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