Quotes About Desolation

Everyone living here will be dead soon. Everyone within a radius of miles. Miles and miles.

That and loneliness.

the dead moon sheds cold light on the dark buildings that stand testament to the folly of the human race.

No one realized that, being left out in the cold, I was also very much in the dark.

It was a long straight road through dry fields as far as a person could see. You'd think the sky didn't have any air in it, and the earth was made of paper. Rather than moving, we were just getting smaller and smaller.

Stephan's hand left his breast, and reached out. Grey took it, and felt love flow between them. He thought that heart and body must be entirely melted—if only for that moment. Then they parted, each drawing back, each seeing the flash of desolation in the other's face, both smiling ruefully to see it.

Then said I, Lord, how long? And he answered, Until the cities be wasted without inhabitant, and the houses without man, and the land be utterly desolate.

He hath stripped me of my glory, and taken the crown from my head. He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am gone: and my hope hath He removed like a tree.

I knew too well that deadness of heart; the sense of sleepwalking through days and lying open-eyed at night, finding no rest, knowing only emptiness that was not peace.

We can't feel anything - all that's left inside us is dust.

Everyone was searching for something, conducting lively arguments, getting excited, but behind it all one felt weariness, disillusion, emptiness.

I found lines that mirrored an ache and longing I had so often felt when the beauty around my woods cathedral was too intense, when the need to grasp and keep loveliness left me with a sense of desolate frustration.

Loneliness is a kind of prison. [Vincent Van Gogh]

The book I'm looking for,' says the blurred figure, who holds out a volume similar to yours, 'is the one that gives the sense of the world after the end of the world, the sense that the world is the end of everything that there is in the world, that the only thing there is in the world is the end of the world.

Y ella se abandona a la corriente de la lectura como al único acto de vida posible en un mundo donde no queda sino arena árida sobre capas de betún oleoso y peligro de muerte por razón de Estado y reparto de fuentes de energía...

It was that kind of a crazy afternoon, terrifically cold, and no sun out or anything, and you felt like you were disappearing every time you crossed a road.

Jeez. Not even the ghosts wanted to have lunch with me.

The emptiness, the way his heels rang on the asphalt,was satisfying, emphasised his aloneness. A man alone, alone late at night with no one to say he should be home in bed.

cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells

The door was open; I stepped in. A ghost town with a ghost theater, yet the former grandness still evident, the gold wallpaper peeling, the velvet seats in attendant rows, though ripped and ruined. Why did I cry? Not because it was a wreck, but because I felt the history.

whats coming will make post apocalyptic movies look like a disney world vacation.

He didn't know how one's flesh prickled when fear took hold. He didn't understand what it was like to gaze into the future and know that it would be nothing more than a dark and lonely place.

You don't know how loud the silence is or how deeply it cuts.

Another of them died last night. His body was in the bazaar this morning. It lay, with a collecting bowl at its feet, on the charpoy that is reserved for those who die without money or family to bury them. He looked desiccated and his skin had the sheen and color of the dates we eat to break our fast. There are new bodies on that charpoy every week.