Quotes About Isolation

Everyone eats his words by himself although we're all eating together. There's no thought for the hunger of others, you can't hunger together. Cabbage soup was our main food, but it mainly took the meat from our bones and the sanity from our minds. The hunger angel ran around in hysterics. He lost all proportion, growing more in a single day than grass in an entire summer or snow in an entire winter.

Windisch closes his eyes. He feels his eyes. He feels his eyeballs in his hands. His eyes without a face.

I don't need a day pass, I have the camp, and the camp has me. All I need is a bunk and Fenya's bread and my tin bowl. I don't even need Leo Auberg.

A cidade está impregnada de vazio. Um carro atropela meus olhos com suas luzes. O condutor foge, pois é difícil me ver na escuridão.

Except you're not allowed to talk about hunger when you're hungry. Hunger is not a bunk or a bed frame, otherwise it could be measured. Hunger is not an object.

Llevo un equipaje de silencio. Me he rodeado de un silencio tan hondo y duradero que nunca acierto a abrirme con las palabras. Cuando hablo, solamente me cierro de otra manera.

The Romanian farmers eat and drink too much because they have too little, said Liviu, and they talk too little because they know too much. And they don't trust strangers don't have any gold teeth. Strangers here are very much alone, said Liviu.

You know how sad your life is when you know the release date of DVDs.

Are you afraid of other people? I know that by keeping others at a distance you avoid a betrayal of your trust, but you must endure the loneliness. Man can never completely erase this sadness, because all men are fundamentally alone. Pain is something man must carry in his heart, and since the heart feels pain so easily, some believe that life is pain.

As he lay down, a slight sigh spilled from his thin lips. Most likely it was just his chest wound having its say. Of course, no one else would ever know for sure. D's sorrow, his joy, and his pain belonged to him alone.

If that guy don't look like the loneliest thing ever. And it ain't because he's turned his back on the world. With him, everybody's happy to see him coming, but no one's sorry to see him go. And anybody who catches sight of him is bound to step aside on account of the intense scent he's got about him.

She felt tears dripping down her cheeks, and she wondered if anyone would ever miss her if she simply sat here, drinking coffee for days and days, years and years.

Remote and ineffectual don.

How many men can say, as I must, 'I am a man whose only friend is the King of England'? I have everything, you would think. And yet take Henry away, and I have nothing.

The world corrupts me, I think. Or perhaps it's just the weather. It pulls me down and makes me think like you, that one should shrink inside, down and down to a little point of light, preserving one's solitary soul like a flame under glass

Sometimes I'm at stool all night." 507

He thinks, ten years I have had my soul flattened and pressed till it's not the thickness of paper. Henry has ground and ground me in the mill of his desires, and now I am fined down to dust I am no more use to him, I am powder in the wind. Princes hate those to whom they have incurred debts.

The lawyer's world is entire unto itself, the human pared away.

I, he thinks, who am so soiled in life's battle, so seamed and scarred, so numb, so unwanted, so cold.

Nothing hurts, or perhaps it's that everything hurts, because there is no separate pain that he can pick out. But the cold strikes him, just in one place: just through his cheekbone as it rests on the cobbles.

This was school, and everything he'd feared. Barren, jarring, stale, always lonely and never alone. He had known it would be bad, and it was.

Far away can be too far away, when the wrong people are left behind.

Small, inquisitive and solitary, the only child of an only son, growing up in rented lodgings or hotel rooms, constantly on the move as a boy, Anthony Powell needed an energetic imagination to people a sadly under-populated world from a child's point of view. His mother and his nurse were for long periods the only people he saw, in general the one unchanging element in a peripatetic existence.

She thought it must be a lonely life for a boy who hated books.