Religion converts despair, which destroys, into resignation, which submits.
Despair is like froward children, who, when you take away one of their playthings, throw the rest into the fire for madness. It grows angry with itself, turns its own executioner, and revenges its misfortunes on its own head.
Despair is the offspring of fear, of laziness, and impatience; it argues a delect of spirit and resolution, and often of honesty too. I would not despair unless I saw my misfortune recorded in the book of fate, and signed and sealed by necessity.
Beware of desperate steps.—The darkest day, live till tomorrow, will have passed away.
Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
What we call despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
He that despairs degrades the Deity, and seems to intimate that He is insufficient, or not just to his word; in vain hath he read the Scriptures, the world, and man.
Considering the unforeseen events of this world, we should be taught that no human condition should inspire men with absolute despair.
Despair gives the shocking ease to the mind that mortification gives to the body.
He who despairs wants love and faith, for faith, hope, and love are three torches which blend their light together, nor does the one shine without the other.
Despair gives courage to the weak.—Resolved to die, he fears no more, but rushes on his foes, and deals his deaths around.
He that despairs measures Providence by his own little contracted model and limits infinite power to finite apprehensions.
The fact that God has prohibited despair gives misfortune the right to hope all things, and leaves hope free to dare all things.
It is impossible for that man to despair who remembers that his Helper is omnipotent.