Quotes About Isolation

Shall I tell her that in spite of everything they did I died then? Shall I tell her what it feels like to be dead? It's not being sad, it's quite different. It's being nothing, feeling nothing. (...) it's like walking along a road in a fog, knowing that you have left everything behind you. But you don't want to go back; you've got to go on.

Last night and today - it makes a pretty good sentence. ....Qu'est-ce qu'elle fout ici, la vieille? What the devil (translating it politely) is she doing here, that old woman? What is she doing here, the stranger, the alien, the old one?....I quite agree too, quite. I have seen that in people's eyes all my life. I am asking myself all the time what the devil I am doing here. All the time.

Left alone, Miss Verney felt so old, lonely and helpless that she began to cry. No builder would tackle that shed, not for any price she could afford. But crying relieved her and she soon felt quite cheerful again. It was ridiculous to brood, she told herself.

I stopped going out; I stopped wanting to go out. That happens very easily. It's as if you had always done that - lived in a few rooms and gone from one to the other.

I had two longings and one was fighting the other. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be always alone

I felt very little tenderness for her, she was a stranger to me, a stranger who did not think or feel as I did.

Vi a Antoinette tendida en cama, absolutamente inmóvil. Como una muñeca. Incluso cuando me amenazó con la botella, había en ella cierta calidad de marioneta.

when you are dead to the world, the world rescues you, if only to make a figure of fun out of you

You shut the door and you pull the curtains and then it's as long as a thousand years and yet so soon ended.

Mais dès que je ne veux pas mentir à moi-même, je ne trouve en moi qu'un désir - et il est irréalisable: être loin, être seul, être tout à fait seul pendant des mois, réfléchir, me reprendre, sans mon argent, sans le soutien d'aucun être qui m'aime, pour voir si je vaux quelque chose, pour essayer mes forces, pour être sûr que lorsque j'aime, c'est bien réellement un libre choix!

La Solitude!...J'aurais mauvaise grâce à en craindre le visage, maintenant qu'il est fatigué et qu'il n'a plus ses belles promesses

You ought to get out more. You know, Pérol, we should go out some evening, just you and me. Otherwise, you lose touch with reality. You know what I mean? You lose your sense of reality, and hey presto, you don't know which shelf you left your soul on. The shelf where you put your friends. The shelf where you put your women. Stage right, stage left. Or in the shoebox. You turn around and you find you're stuck in the bottom drawer, with the accessories.

Nobody was speaking. Only the cicadas continued their whine, indifferent to human tragedies.

The other kids threw bars of soap at her, pushed one another into her path and wrote graffiti about her on the bathroom walls. In return, she cursed them out in Latin.

When people looked at him they had the feeling of being shut out. He did not shut them out. He shut himself in.

I lay there, stretched out, looking at the one star visible through the tiny window of the room. Only connect. How can you do that when the connections are broken?

And myself? Observe me. There is something to be gained from my surface uses, and perhaps a little more from my lower depths, but my very bottom? That's where I am alone, the observer and the observed.

Bridges join but they also separate.

Zel so often put himself outside of where he wanted to be and then looked in dumbly through the window of his longing, hurt and beaten and knowing that he had hurt and beaten himself but still he did it, over and over.

When you are a solitary kid you find an imaginary friend.

It was very bad for me that my deafness happened at around the same time as I discovered my clitoris.

If someone liked me, I waited until she was off guard, and then I told her I didn't want to be her friend any more. I watched the confusion and upset. The tears. Then I ran off, triumphantly in control, and very fast the triumph and the control leaked away, and then I cried and cried, because I had put myself on the outside again, on the doorstep again, where I didn't want to be.

Dupa cateva experimente simple, a devenit clar ca oamenii care abandonasera gravitatia fusesera, la randul lor, abandonati de ea." (pag 143)

I keep forgetting that if you live in a big city only mad people talk to themselves.