Quotes About Isolation

Sonet c?tre Wer Preatrista mea numit? Wer Numai vederea te mai strânge. ?i-ai pus cuvântul meu cercel Dar to?i î?i mai vorbesc: prin sânge! Ai tras pe tine un alt cer S? fiu un plâns f?r? ureche Prin? invizibil ?i stingher Vagabondând o lume veche. (Prin reverii se arat? R sim?ind în cifra ? o lege!) Însingurat de-a nu fi cer Nu poate via?a-mi s? te nege. Preatrista mea numit? Wer Un vagabond singur e-un rege!

Pissenlit Au bord du trottoir Au bout du monde L'œil jaune de la solitude [Dandelion On the edge of the pavement At the end of the world The yellow eye of loneliness]

I danced frightening things. They were frightened of me and therefore thought that I wanted to kill them. I did not want to kill anyone. I loved everyone, but no one loved me, and therefore I became nervous.

People like eccentrics. Therefore they will leave me alone, saying that I am a mad clown.

Body weight and body-fat percentage have no meaning in isolation for endurance athletes. These variables have meaning only in relation to performance. Weighing 145 pounds is not better than weighing 155 pounds unless you perform better at the lighter weight. A body-fat percentage of 12 is better than a body-fat percentage of 13 only if you're faster at 12 percent.

That's the worst of sorrow . . . it's always a vicious circle. It makes one tense and hard and disagreeable, and this means that one repels and antagonises people, and then they dislike and avoid one--and that means more isolation and still more sorrow.

That's the worst of sorrow," I decided, with less surprise than I had accepted the same conclusion after Roland's death. "It's always a vicious circle. It makes one tense and hard and disagreeable, and this means that one repels and antagonises people, and then they dislike and avoid one--and that means more isolation and still more sorrow.

Wisconsin was covered several inches deep in snow -- very beautiful, with light ice-floes on the lakes and rivers, and the bare trees and tall grasses like brown feathers against the snow. As the sun set it was reflected in the ice-covered lakes and the light snow -- but all the same I'm glad that most of my [lecture] tour has been in summer and autumn weather. As soon as winter comes there is an extraordinary effect of desolation in these miles upon miles of uninhabited prairies and hills.

The desert is a place of bones, where the innards are turned out, to desiccate into dust.

But you have abandoned us, and we don't know what to do with ourselves after we are broken.

and suddenly it was all 'Lord of the Flies' meets the Battle for Helm's Deep.

The funny thing is that I'm the girl who no one sees at the beach. Ask anyone who's traveled with me. Normally, I'm in so many layers, I look like Lawrence of Arabia!

While We are out of Touch or How to Survive and Prosper during the Next Thirty Minutes by Your Friend, the Mysterious Stranger

He] was an insect wandering in the cathedral his mind had become.

There's a thousand different ways a group of people can make someone in their midst feel unwanted.

That profound darkness where weeping doesn't exist.

In the big city nobody has time to make friends. The big city is a big solitude.

Then the doors closed throughout the hotel. Everyone locked himself in behind the double doors and each was left alone with himself and his secrets.

This is no life. No life at all. But where is there any life? Nothing happens. Nothing goes on. Boring. Old. Dead. Ghastly." Every object around him was a sham. Whatever he took up turned to dust. The world was a crumbling affair not to be grasped or held. You fell from emptiness to emptiness. You carried around a sack of darkness inside you. Doctor Otternschlag lived in the uttermost loneliness - although the earth is full of people like him . . .

This was not a loss that could be shared. Grief was a place every person had to go alone, a lonely country populated by mistakes and a futile desire to turn back time for an impossible "do-over.

a companion had seemed unnecessary fuel when her body still burned at the core, waiting to ignite. But now, with the wind blowing icicles through her [Kit] veins, it felt like she, too, was in the grave. All her nuclear energy had been snuffed like a match between the night's icy fingers.

Unten wimmelten schwarze Regenschirme und helle Frauenbeine, gelbe Autobusse, Bogenlampen. Sogar ein Baum war da, er streckte Zweige, nicht allzuweit vom Hotel, andere Zweige wie die Bäume in Fredersdorf. Er hatte ein Inselchen von Erde mitten im Asphalt, dieser Berliner Baum, und rund um die Erde einen Zaun, ein Gitter, als müsse er gegen die Stadt geschützt werden. Kringelein, von soviel Fremden und Überwältigendem umgeben, freundete sich ein wenig mit diesem Baum an.

Mortimer had maxed three credit cards stocking the cave with canned goods and medical supplies and tools and everything a man needed to live through the end of the world. There were more than a thousand books along shelves in the driest part of the cave. There used to be several boxes of pornography until Mortimer realized that he'd spent nearly ten days in a row sitting in the cave masturbating. He burned the dirty magazines to keep from doing some terrible whacking injury to himself.

This is how Mortimer Tate ended up killing the first three human beings he'd laid eyes on in nearly a decade.