Quotes About Desolation

Maledetti noiosi. Su tutta la Terra. Che diffondono altri maledetti noiosi. Che spettacolo dell'orrore. La Terra ne brulicava.

He had nothing, and he found out that having nothing was difficult too.

two hollow emptinesses looking into each other

we were like some last, vast final dinosaur crawling feebly home somewhere, somehow, maybe to die.

Scattered among the houses and fields were skeletons bleached by the sun. Slowly Dermer's crew realized they were sailing along the border of a cemetery two hundred miles long and forty miles deep. Patuxet had been hit with special force. Not a single person remained. Tisquantum's entire social world had vanished.

Inman felt like God's most marauded bantling.

because there's something joyless and deadening in the air, as if what this room really holds is the decaying miscarried fetus of the human future. Anyone who lingers here will sicken and die, just as if they were stranded in the pyramid on a dead world where once the photo-reconnaissance Concordes flew.

He knew what loss was, how the mind refuses to believe, the way the body aches with a need that can't be satisfied, and the awful, endless desolation of the spirit.

Nothing does anything for me anymore.

It is so American, fire. So like us. Its desolation. And its eventual, brief triumph.

I'm still blown away by how desolate Iceland can be, how deserted it is. It's very often like living on the moon.

a desert more vast than the continental United States

Houses, trees and fields of flax once flourished here. Summers had been blue with flowers. Now it was a shallow sea of stinking grey from end to end. And this is where you fought the war.

I remember hearing that one very small allied contingent from a non-Greek city somewhere in the far south of Sicily had been completely wiped out except for a single man, and that for days afterwards he wandered round the camp looking completely lost, since there was no one left alive who could speak his language. I knew how he felt.

It's like the Stone Age over there, just sand and rubble and IEDs.

There have been cans of dog food more splendiferous than South Richmond. Land mines more tender.

The moon can't help it. It's only a fat dumb object, the pumpkin of the sky. The moon's a mess, to tell the truth. A burnt-out cinder the color of dishwater; a stale gray cookie covered with scars. Every loose rock in our solar system has taken a punch at it. It's been scorched, golf-clubbed, and inflicted with boils. If lovers have chosen this brutalized derelict, this tortured dustball, this pitted and pimpled parcel of wasteland as the repository of their dreams, the moon can't help it.

I had a dream which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air

If it wasn't for the roaming bands of dead, it might not be such a bad place.

his eyes took in the barren slopes and the scattered boulders and the lonley gray road windingits way into the fading hills,and i could feel him thinking to himself this is no place to die

Why shine, when there's nothing to shine on?

the way he'd slowly starved his relationship of oxygen.

What the four seasons of the year mean to the European, the one season of the monsoon means to the Indian. It is preceded by desolation; it brings with it hopes of spring; it has the fullness of summer and the fulfillment of autumn all in one.

Once through this ruined city did I pass I espied a lonely bird on a bough and asked 'What knowest thou of this wilderness?' It replied : 'I can sum it up in two words: 'Alas! Alas