Quotes Misery Novels & Stories

“Fine! Have it your way then, Liam. But don’t you dare drag me into your lonely pathetic life. And just so you know, I’m leaving you all alone her. I won’t let you drag me into your lonely and sad life. Misery they say loves company, but I won’t be that company when you start feeling miserable and sad.” I told him furiously.

Tears started to gather in my eyes as the memory replayed, I took a sip of my creamy coffee to stop the tears from falling. The coffee tastes…weak. Just like I felt. Everything felt weak and diluted without him; everything reminded me of him. I feel suffocated,, and I hate it. How can I feel so miserable? I have never been this miserable for a man, what does he have on me?

I was considering if what my father said was actually true - I really should have died in her stead, I was a mere disgrace to her sacrifice, and the memories of her being bitten to death while still covering me up like a hen hatching her eggs haunted me, her painful grunts as they bit her and scratched her with claws still echoed in my head. I wanted to cry, in fact I was already crying, but my tears quickly dried up even before they ran down my face, not even allowing me to dutifully mourn for my useless life. I technically understood the difference between sorrow and misery: sorrow could be expressed, the victims could cry and wail as much as they want to, and would certainly feel a sense

from the look of things, as she was moping one sunny bright afternoon, three days after her mother's sudden death she asked herself the question again as she gripped the mop stick as though she planned to snap it in half at any given oppurtunity. Her eyes were fixed on the drying. floor and she was held by emptiness and pain, it sunk in to her heart and dragged out more tears from her eyes, her hands began to shake so hard that the fell from her hands and she felt. Like mop might join it at any time, Life had thrown far too many blows at her and her heart could just take no more of it. "I am cursed," she said her eyes on the following the mop stick on the floor below her feet as miserable as

I've never known freedom, never tasted the sweetness of uncomplicated joy. "They say good shoes take you to good places," I mutter, a hollow laugh escaping my lips. "But it's not the shoes. It's me. I'm the curse." My thoughts spiral into self-loathing. "Bad fate, bad luck, bad everything. Born with a defective compass, always pointing me toward the shadows." Defeat settles in, like a shroud suffocating my soul. "I should just die," I whisper, resignation seeping into my bones. "Denzel can use me for himself. I don't care. I'm nothing but a magnet for misery."

I feel like a complete piece of shit unable to do the most basic of chores to help my wife run our home. "Please stop and look at me." She does as I request. Her hands still in the sudsy water. "There's something wrong with me." "You don't have to make excuses, Moby. I'll do it." I don't detect anger so much as defeat. "Piper, please listen to me." When she finally makes eye contact with me, her disposition seems to change. "Moby! What's wrong?" Apparently seeing the misery written all over my face.

All I had left was pain and hurt which I knew I deserved for being a gullible stupid cunt. “You aren’t a gullible stupid cunt.” Zoe groaned. She managed to look worse than I did having stayed up most of the night trying to cheer me up. There was no cheering me up. I was a lost cause. “You aren’t a lost cause!” Zoe yelled. It was like my world had been crushed by an extinction level meteorite that had come for once purpose and one purpose only; the total annihilation of everything.that made me happy. I must be the most miserable cunt in the world right now.

So what else can I look after and be proud of? And now I'm moody. Not to be contrived, but this is how I am. Want to be forced cheerful can not, instead that came out again tears. There's too much sadness in my life lately. My God, who's my real soul mate? I never thought I'd experience my bitter, dark love story like this. ____________________

If lies would stop her from feeling this way, she would prefer it more than anything else. She clenched her fist when the world around her started looking fuzzy. Mr. Castro’s voice was becoming louder and louder, just as she started losing a breath. She couldn’t understand what’s happening, but in between her despair, she could hear Kioven’s muffled voice. It was the only thing she was clinging on so dearly, yet no matter what she tried telling herself, everything that had struck her this week and in the past filmed themselves as though they were in a hurry to remind her what misery she was crowned with—one by one, ever so slowly.

I push my fingers against the spot he's just hit, and give him a dry grin that conveys nothing. "Are you done? Do you want me to lie to you?" I probe because misery surely loves company, and apparently I haven't done enough yet. Maybe it'll be much better if he shoves my head against the wall, and pummels my face in. Maybe if I'm lucky, all the tightly coiled tension in my body would be released and I would feel a world better. "I don't know who made you this sad pathetic man, but it's horrible, Christian. Just because you're miserable on the inside and out doesn't mean everyone around you has to be."