Quotes About Desolation

There was no joy here. There was only the sad business of survival.

My head was a desolate place and as barren as the bare hills of Le Marche. Until I began to build in it, only vultures nested there.

Think of your woods and orchards without birds! Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams As in an idiot's brain remembered words Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams!

Death, lonely death, Beneath the withered leaves.

LUCIFER: I pity thee who lovest what must perish. CAIN: And I thee who lov'st nothing

The blest are the dead, Who see not the sight Of their own desolation;   50 This work of a night — This wreck of a realm — this deed of my doing — For ages I've done, and shall still be renewing

Nothing grows among its pinnacles; there is no shade except under great toadstools of sandstone whose bases have been eaten to the shape of wine glasses by the wind. Everything is flaking, cracking, disintegrating, wearing away in the long, inperceptible weather of time. The ash of ancient volcanic outbursts still sterilizes its soil, and its colors in that waste are the colors that flame in the lonely sunsets on dead planets.

It was the world of the abyss, supposedly as lifeless as the earth's first midnight.

It was the first time she'd experienced separation, and the empty feeling deep inside her hurt something awful. She had no one to talk to, no one to explain the hollowness.

The Winter inside me was torment and agony—but at least when I was immersed in it, I couldn't feel.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

That was the one moment he would always remember. The unhappiest moment of a happy childhood. The empty desolation of being on the wrong side of that sheet of ice, in the cold sterile water, while the fire burnt at the farm and the smell of Christmas food seeped out of the kitchen. And above him always the criss-crossed pattern of his own skates.

A single person is missing for you and the whole world is empty.

From where I sat, Peter and Wendy were the two loneliest figures in the world. But Peter was somehow the lonelier of the two.

In the English language there are orphans and widows, but there is no word for the parents who lose a child.

I look for places like me: big, hollow, forgotten by almost everyone.

I look for places like me: big, hollow, forgotten by most everyone.

Paint the mirrors black to forget you I still picture your face and the way you used to taste. Roses in a glass, dead and wilted to you this all was nothing. Everything to you is nothing.

Gosh how I love being left out of things its super cool, especially when I've had a day like I have. Go away.

The worst thing about being left out is knowing you weren't even a simple thought in any of their minds...sad

But after the bottle was empty sometime that night, I was finally left with nothing but myself and my thoughts, devious cabdrivers that took me where I did not want to go. Now

Even if you are in paradise, it is still hell if you are all alone.

It always strikes me, and it is very peculiar, that, whenever we see the image of indescribable and unutterable desolation—of loneliness, poverty, and misery, the end and extreme of things—the thought of God comes into one's mind.