Quotes About Isolation

Hold in, hold in, one crack and the wall is breached. I need now to be finite, self-contained, to stop this bacterial grief dividing and multiplying till its weight is the weight of the world. Bacteria: agents of putrefaction. My father's decay lodged in me.

I thought no one was talking to me and the others thought I wasn't talking to them.

Neither parent spoke. Milo stood between them like a lighthouse between the rocks and the shipwreck.

About her life to come, when she'd have a mansion and no neighbors. All she ever wanted was for everyone to go away. And when I did she never forgave me. She loved miracle stories, probably because her life was a far away from a miracle as Jupiter is from the Earth. She believed in miracles, even though she never got one-- well, maybe she did get one, but that was me, and she didn't know that miracles often come in disguise.

My own heart, like this wild place, has never been visited, and I do not know whether it could sustain life.

Lonely cries, and she was lonely, not for friends but for a time that hadn't been violated.

You act out what it feels like to be the one who doesn't belong. And you act it out by trying to do to others what has been done to you. It is impossible to believe that anyone loves you for yourself.

She was such a solitary woman. A solitary woman who longed for one person to know her. I think I do know her now, but it is too late.

I have found that I am not a space where people want to live. At least not without decorating first.

It's snowing. Here I am. Lost and Found.

I had a sense of myself as a haunted house. I never knew when the invisible thing would strike – and it was like a blow, a kind of winding in the chest or stomach. When I felt it I would cry out at the force of it. Sometimes I lay curled up on the floor. Sometimes I kneeled and gripped a piece of furniture. This is one moment . . . know that another . . . Hold on, hold on, hold on.

you act out what it feels like to be the one who doesn't belong. And you act it out by trying to do to others what has been done to you.

This voyage of ours is lonely--the more so if we find a companion, only to suffer the bitterest loss. In truth we are alone.

When you dig under the surface, past the necessities, men and women don't mix.

I shall have nowt to talk to now the baby is boiled.

Dark could feel the familiar pain behind his eyes. His eyes were bars, and behind them was a fierce, unfed animal. When people looked at him they had the feeling of being shut out. He did not shut them out. He shut himself in.

Dark woke out of his sleeping nightmare and into his waking nightmare. He had dreamed of a door closing and closing.

Writers are often exiles, outsiders, runaways and castaways.

There is peace in dungeons, but is that enough to make dungeons desirable?

What good would it be to possess the whole universe if one were its only survivor?

My love for imaginary objects and my facility in lending myself to them ended by disillusioning me with everything around me, and determined that love of solitude which I have retained ever since that time.

I am a hundred times happier in my solitude than I could be if I lived among them.

Rien ne rétrécit plus l'esprit, rien n'engendre plus de riens, de rapports, de paquets, de tracasseries, de mensonges, que d'être éternellement renfermés vis-à-vis les uns des autres dans une chambre, réduits pour tout ouvrage à la nécessité de babiller continuellement.

Les villes sont le gouffre de l'espèce humaine.