Quotes About Desolation

Summer seems so cold without you, winter is even colder.

When you need a haircut, it looks like you have no one to take care of you.

Where are the books? All these elegant bookshelves are empty.

Look: I am nothing. I do not even have ashes to rub into my eyes.

They gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in future.

There could have been no two hearts So open, no tastes so similar, no feelings So in unison, no countenances So beloved. Now they were strangers; Nay, worse than strangers, for they Could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.

Ann, marked on both wrists by her father's death wish, wandered among ruins and graves, looked out across the desolation of desert as her inheritance, and loved life. How?

Kindness was the last thing she needed. She had to stay in the icy place, the numb place, and their warmth threatened to melt her just when she needed the cold.

My loneliness tasted like pennies.

Loneliness ia a human condition

Loneliness is the human condition, get used to it.

It's a vast, lonely, forbidding expanse of nothing rather like clouds and clouds of pumice stone. And it certainly does not appear to be a very inviting place to live or work.

The story of 'Mr. Robot' is really about this guy who's lonely - who's alone and feels so disconnected from the world.

A big gloomy space was piled with bags, boxes, suitcases, parcels, umbrellas. There were a few shelves but no apparent order. Some of the bags seemed to have been left where they had been dropped. It was the sort of place horror-film directors dream of, or playwrights of the absurd, a place of the soul, in limbo.

No Country for Old Men

Father Stalin, look at this Collective farming is just bliss The hut's in ruins, the barn's all sagged All the horses broken nags And on the hut a hammer and sickle And in the hut death and famine No cows left, no pigs at all Just your picture on the wall

'No Country for Old Men' was epic.

For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us. Outside, the day may be blue and gold, but the light that creeps down through the thickly-muffled glass of the small iron-barred window beneath which one sits is grey

It lies like a leper in purple, it sits like a dead thing smeared with gold.

How alone I am in life! How terribly alone!

From that time on she lived in lonely caves.

Most of the Marois Bay scenery is simply made as a setting for the nursing of a wounded heart. The cliffs are a sombre indigo, sinister and forbidding; and even on the finest days the sea has a curious sullen look. You have only to get away from the crowd near the bathing-machines and reach one of these small coves and get your book against a rock and your pipe well alight, and you can simply wallow in misery. I have done it myself.

Quién soy en esta ciudad muerta?...No entiendo sino las cenizas.

Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?