Quotes About Isolation

Whenever hope packed its bag and left for good, all that remained was a terrible emptiness, immeasurably sad.

wouldn't talk to you." Cork

Waiting for the warm affection of another human heart. Waiting to know the reason he has always felt like a soul alone in the universe. But this night, his waiting

Standing in that simple cabin in the middle of nowhere, his hand in the grip of the oldest man he had ever seen, Bo realized that he was in the presence of someone whose power was of a remarkably different kind.

There is a deeper hurt than anything sustained by the body, and it's the wounding of the soul. It's the feeling that you've been abandoned by everyone, even God. It's the most alone you'll ever be. A wounded body heals itself, but there is a scar.

but that, too, was only part of it. There is a deeper hurt than anything sustained by the body, and it's the wounding of the soul. It's the feeling that you've been abandoned by everyone, even God. It's the most alone you'll ever be. A wounded body heals itself, but there is a scar.

over our house. My mother became nearly mute and more often than not the only sound from her was weeping. She kept the curtains drawn so that it felt as if permanent night had fallen. Never much concerned anyway with her mundane domestic duties she completely stopped cooking and cleaning and sat for hours in the quiet dark of the living room. She was flesh without spirit, eyes without sight. It felt as

An emptiness opened inside me that could have swallowed the whole universe.

When Emil returned from the Second World War blind and disfigured and wanting only to feed in isolation on the meat of his bitterness, his family had purchased and completely renovated a farmhouse that was a stone's throw from the edge of town.

He yearned for the words. It was an affliction, this constant clutching for words. It felt as if he had been excluded from a conversation.

We are all sealed up alone. We all carry the center of the universe inside our own heads. It is, for each of us, a point a few inches behind our eyes where the binocular lines of vision converge. Only a narcissist or a child is fool enough to believe it.

It is a common architectural strategy to build courtrooms without windows, to enhance the effect of a chamber isolated from the everyday world, a theater for the great and timeless work of the law.

There I sat, in the wreckage of my apartment, in the wreckage of my life – no love, no prospects, a gnawing sense of existential futility along with the certainty that a better life was being lived by everyone else

Just then things weren't going so well in my life. My business was precariously perched on the brink of bankruptcy, my anemic love life was the stuff of a Sartre treatise – Being with Nothingness – my car could use a tune-up, my apartment could use a scrubbing, my body could use some exercise, though who would give it that was a mystery to me. I was too young to feel old, and yet there it was, the despair of middle age, hanging around my neck like a noose.

The campus was Disney-fascist, a relentlessly upbeat place to wither and die.

Now Violet had let herself go until she could barely make it out of the house to buy her Oreos and booze. But if you looked closely, beneath the folds of flesh ravaged by bitterness and drink, you could see the lovely creature she had been, and what she had been then was just as bitter and vindictive as what she was now.

In the midst of friends, home, and kind parents, she was alone.

it is the ordinary lot of people to have no friends if they themselves care for nobody

There was somebody screaming somewhere, and she kept wondering who it could be. She turned to the people who watched her and said in a lost, chiding voice, "Quit screaming, please! Screaming doesn't help!" She closed her eyes and leaned against the fence; and then she knew the person screaming was herself.

His face was as welcoming as a turned back.

The place had the gritty untidiness of belonging to no one, a litter bin for wasted time.

The walls were dun and featureless, the furniture was arranged with all the homeyness of a second-hand sale-room and clothes were littered everywhere. It wasn't a room so much as a suitcase with doors.

El sonido más solitario del mundo es el que producen otras personas haciendo el amor.

The loneliest sound in the world is other people making love.