Quotes About Isolation

Schizophrenia is without a doubt the most dreaded psychological disorder. If depression is the common cold of psychological disorders, schizophrenia is the cancer." The cancer.

I started writing everything down.I wrote for the same reason someone lost sticks a message in a bottle. I'm here. Help. Please find me.

They wanted me to stay because they wanted me around: I was their direct link to Sam; I was his memento. And they were probably afraid that I might shoot myself, left alone with all Sam's things.

Six years and my parents are still dead, and I still feel like I'm rotting away in purgatory, waiting for a killer to determine my fate.

One is the loneliest number

One is the loneliest number. Never put all your eggs in one basket.

You have to tell. It can't be a secret. Secrets make everyone alone.

Byrd at the South Pole

I breathe in slowly. Food is life. I exhale, take another breath. Food is life. And that's the problem. When you're alive, people can hurt you. It's easier to crawl into a bone cage or a snowdrift of confusion. It's easier to lock everybody out. But it's a lie.

I wonder how long it would take for anyone to notice if I just stopped talking.

I breathe in slowly. Food is life. I exhale, take another breath. Food is life. And that's the problem. When you're alive, people can hurt you. It's easier to crawl into a bone cage or a snowdrift of confusion. It's easier to lock everybody out. But it's a lie.

I know my head isn't screwed on straight. I want to leave, transfer, warp myself to another galaxy. I want to confess everything, hand over the guilt and mistake and anger to someone else. There is a beast in my gut, I can hear it scraping away at the inside of my ribs. Even if I dump the memory, it will stay with me, staining me. My closest is a good thing, a quiet place that helps me hold these thoughts inside my head where no one can hear them.

I crawled into my books and pulled the pages up over my head. (A Monstrous Regiment of Women)

Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends, and society are natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking.

If we lose our sanity ... We can but howl the lugubrious howl of idiots, the howl of the utterly lost howling their nowhereness.

Music was invented to confirm human loneliness.

I am quite alone. I am neither happy nor unhappy; I lie suspended like a hair or a feather in the cloudy mixtures of memory.

I had become, with the approach of night, once more aware of loneliness and time - those two companions without whom no journey can yield us anything.

The most common response by parents to children's isolation is aggravation or worry. We may focus on the annoying behavior, not seeing the pain underneath, or we see the pain all too clearly and feel helpless to fix it. These are difficult moments for any parent. What we need are keys to unlock the door to that fortress of isolation and help the child out again into the fields of play. Playful Parenting provides those keys.

But sometimes children do not connect or reconnect so easily. They may feel so isolated that they retreat into a corner, or come out aggressively with both arms swinging. They may be annoying, obnoxious, or downright infuriating as they try desperately to signal us that they need more connection. These situations call for creating more playtime, not doling out punishment or leaving the lonely child all alone.

I'm inhibited, isolated, haunted, unknown. However, I haven't compromised myself. And although I lie a good deal, it's mostly whimsical. I'm not living a lie, like the vindicator.

Radicalism usually prospers in the gap between rising expectations and declining opportunities. This is especially true where the population is young, idle, and bored; where the art is impoverished; where entertainment—movies, theater, music—is policed or absent altogether; and where young men are set apart from the consoling and socializing presence of women.

When everyone goes home, you're stuck with yourself.

It struck him as a bit unfair that, at the age of eight, he should have manifested the same sense of solitude that haunted him at forty-three.