Quotes About Isolation

If you reveal TMI, it can make people feel a little less alone.

He who is abandoned is an abandoner.

I didn't want anyone to know I had parents. I wanted to be like an orphan who had bummed around the country on trains and just arrived out of nowhere, with no roots, no connections, no background.

But a solitary suffers terribly from any suspicion concerning the few people he loves—especially

They want to hold on to you and your people. They have isolated the ones who might grow powerful and overthrow their debauched reign.

Making friends has always been hard for me.

existentialist

Human connection only reminded me of what I could lose.

A big part of my life was spent getting the keys for or driving my car. My constant friend was the radio, and most of my conversations were not face-to-face but side by side in the front seat or through the rearview mirror of some jalopy that I would drive until it gave out and I had to buy a new one. I was like some kind of futuristic hermit crab being carried by my temporary husk from place to place rather than feeling the sun on my head or my feet on the ground.

You could see New Jersey out of Mardi's window. From the seventy-second floor it looked like a scale model of Purgatory.

How are we supposed to live in the future when the future just abandons us to the night?

I stood there alone in the eerily silent streets of Las Vegas and listened to my penis cry.

There would be internet, and books, and music. He could think, and be, and hold the world at a distance in order to see it properly.

He took it in for a moment. No internet. No phone service beyond the front desk. No television. No news. No information flow at all. Just a music collection and, somewhere, a library he evidently had to be medically fit to browse. It was quiet. It was actually quiet. He couldn't even hear other people. This little room was as close to sensory deprivation as he'd experienced since … when? Childhood?

he is defining the immediate future as follows: old people huddling in big cities, afraid of the sky.

The vessel through which the Lord Jesus can reveal Himself in this generation is not the individual, but the body of Christ. True, "God hath dealt to each man a measure of faith" (12:3), but alone in isolation man can never fulfill God's purpose. It requires a complete body of Christ to attain to the stature of Christ and to display His glory.

Nothing so reminds you like the sea that the enemy of life is not death but loneliness.

1. I am what I have. My possessions define me. 2. I am what I do. My achievements define me. 3. I am what others think of me. My reputation defines me. 4. I am separate from everyone. My body defines me as alone. 5. I am separate from all that is missing in my life. My life space is disconnected from my desires. 6. I am separate from God. My life depends on God's assessment of my worthiness.

Then a few months ago I found myself talking to the tree. An entire conversation, just me and a tree. And on the climb down I felt like crying. Why didn't I have someone real to talk to? Why didn't I have a best friend like everyone else seemed to? Sure, there were kids I knew at school, but none of them were close friends. They'd have no interest in climbing the tree. In smelling the sunshine.

Al igual que, de repente, yo no encajaba en ninguna parte. Ni en la escuela, ni en la casa... y cada vez que me daba vuelta, otra persona que había conocido desde siempre se sentía como un extraño para mí. Incluso, me sentí como un extraño.

it made me mad. How come a bully like Bubba had friends and I didn't?

Some nights in the midst of this loneliness I swung among the scattered stars at the end of the thin thread of faith alone.

I believe that the community - in the fullest sense: a place and all its creatures - is the smallest unit of health and that to speak of the health of an isolated individual is a contradiction in terms. (pg. 146, Health is Membership)

Prayer is like lying awake at night, afraid, with your head under the cover, hearing only the beating of your own heart. It is like a bird that has blundered down the flue and is caught indoors and flutters at the windowpanes. It is like standing a long time on a cold day, knocking at a shut door.