How I hate everything!

The lost glove is happy.

She seemed imprisoned in her sadness.

Sympathy from strangers can be ruinous.

The soulless have no need of melancholia

Melancholy is the happiness of being sad.

Depression is melancholy minus its charms.

Melancholy is incompatible with bicycling.

Melancholy: an appetite no misery satisfies.

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!

Melancholy overwhelms me at supersonic speed.

Where does your soul go when you die in Hell?

The words sounded like a mournful incantation.

I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.

We are inside soft, sweet and pure white despair.