Quotes About Isolation

Well, I don't see any other ones around...

Lily had lived in fear before she knew why she was afraid. She'd grown up knowing that people hated her. Perfectly ordinary people, the kind of adults who ought to be helping her to cross the road, hated Lily and wanted her gone. That was the climate of her childhood.

To be lost from people's thoughts is like a second death.

People say how amazing communications are these days, because you can feel as if you're in the same room as someone in Australia.But you don't really feel that way.You keep telling each other news about your lives,but it feels false.

It does not matter what happens now. There is no world: it has fallen away from us.

first choice had been to rent a cabin in the woods, but that is too much nature. I don't do cabins in the woods because I have seen too many movies about cabins in the woods. If someone wants to murder me, they are going to have to get past reception.

My dad wrote to me. My mum put him up to it because she got this great idea that hearing from someone I'd never met and who didn't give a fuck about me might cheer me up...

A world without love is a deadly place.

Loneliness is sometimes cured by visiting with people, and sometimes it's made worse by the same thing.

Here's a word. Bereavement. Or, Bereaved. Bereft. It's from the Old English bereafian, meaning 'to deprive of, take away, seize, rob'. Robbed. Seized. It happens to everyone. But you feel it alone. Shocking loss isn't to be shared, no matter how hard you try.

It happens to everyone. But you feel it alone. Shocking loss isn't to be shared, no matter how hard you try.

So the thing is, you all share the same kind of pain, exactly the same, but you're too busy experiencing total agony to feel anything other than completely alone. That's what it's like!' I

I feel like a tableau at a roadside shrine. But I'm not sure what the shrine is for. I'm a roadside phenomenon. I am death to community. I am missing the point.

It was quiet, and very, very dangerous. It was a madness designed to keep me sane. My mind struggled to build across the gap, make a new and inhabitable world. The problem was that it had nothing to work with. There was no partner, no children, no home. No nine-to-five job either. So it grabbed anything it could. It was desperate, and it read off the world wrong.

I had only just escaped from humanity,' White wrote, 'and the poor gos had only just been caught by it.

I can't help but think of a line written by the poet Marianne Moore: The cure for loneliness is solitude.

I know now that it is hard to live for long periods without trusting anyone or anything. It's like living without sleep; eventually it will kill you.

If you wish to be truly free, you must love no one. But of course if you take that path you may also find that in the end you're unloved.

I would like to have nothing to do with you for hours on end and then come back and find you, come back with things I've thought and found all on my own— on my own, not through you.

But also . . . I have plenty of people around me to talk to, and no one to be honest with.

This was a little house, with a ceiling that kept getting higher and higher, a hot place with no windows. This was anger.

I looked inside my typewriter. There's a city in there. Black and grey columns and no inhabitants.

As always, the soucouyant seemed more lonely than bad. Maybe that was her trick, her ability to make it so you couldn't decide if she was a monster.

She retained the opinions of trees: one of them being that it was best not to have anything to do with human folk. "Firstly, they cut us down," Rowan said. "Secondly they're all insane, though I suppose they can't help that, being rooted in water instead of earth.