Quotes About Isolation

I'm dealing with a lot of scary things," she said. "I think you have to react to them. And you either laugh at them or you go insane. Or you become like Martin. Shut off from everything and everyone. Trying not to feel.

Everyone dies alone. That's what it is. It's a door. It's one person wide. When you go through it, you do it alone.

The married thing. Sometimes I look at it and feel like someone from a Dickens novel, standing outside in the cold and staring in at Christmas dinner.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

Bob stared at me for a second and said, 'I have nightmares about Hell, where all I do is add up numbers and try to have conversations with people like you.

After that, my whole body felt deliciously warm, monstrously tired, and the sleep that had evaded me seemed, finally, to be within reach. It got dark. It got quiet. And I realized that I was all by myself. Die alone, whispered a bitter, hateful old man's voice.

Loneliness is a hard thing to handle. I feel it, sometimes. When I do, I want it to end. Sometimes, when you're near someone, when you touch them on some level that is deeper than the uselessly structured formality of casual civilized interaction, there's a sense of satisfaction in it. Or at least, there is for me.

I closed the door behind me, while life went on.

Isabel saw all their lives becoming history in units of days and nights so fatally private there was no one left for her to love.

Cliff, a cell phone isn't a toy. It's a very lucky technical miracle for all of us. It's a prime weapon against our essential loneliness. I can't say I've ever felt that lonely.

I was feeling right at home all by myself. The woods can be a bit strange. It takes a long time to feel you belong there and then you never again really belong in town. It's a choice made for you by your brain at a moment you don't notice.

Ludlow stayed in his room and would not see his eldest son. He sent Pet down into the parlor carrying his slate saying he could not talk to Alfred as long as he represented the U.S. government and its base practices.

Out here on the perimeter there are no stars. Out here we is stoned. Immaculate.

Lions in the street and roaming Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming A beast caged in the heart of a city The body of his mother Rotting in the summer ground He fled the town He went down South and crossed the border Left the chaos and disorder Back there over his shoulder One morning he awoke in a green hotel With a strange creature groaning beside him Sweat oozed from its shiny skin Is everybody in? The ceremony is about to begin

Be good & you will be lonesome. Be lonesome & you will be free.

We are so lonely here, with only our loved ones for company. We kill, maim, insult our loved ones, or dream of doing so, to keep from going mad. And then disaster strikes. God, how we love disaster.

Se ninguém entende ninguém, e ninguém nunca entenderá nada, jamis; esta é a prática verdade.

After that he would leave for a while, breaking things as he went, slamming doors to kick them open, picking up decanters to hurl at mirrors, detouring by way of chairs to smash them against the floor. Always when he came back he would sleep in their room, shutting the door against her. Rigid with self-pity she would lie in another room, wishing for the will to leave. Each believed the other a murderer of time, a destroyer of life itself.

I try to live in the now and keep my eye on the hummingbird. I see no one I used to know, but then I'm not just crazy about a lot of people. I mean maybe I was holding all the aces, but what was the game?

These people who have lost someone look naked because they think themselves invisible.

But the fact of it was that I liked it out there, a ruin devoid of human vanities, clean of human illusions, an empty place reclaimed by the weather where a woman plays an organ to stop the wind's whining and an old man plays ball with a dog named Duke. I could tell you that I came back because I had promises to keep, but maybe it was because nobody asked me to stay.

It's not you. It's anyone. Sometimes I don't want anyone around. Some afternoons I lie on my bed and the light comes through the shutters on the floor and I think I never want to leave my own room.

A good part of any day in Los Angeles is spent driving, alone, through streets devoid of meaning to the driver, which is one reason the place exhilarates some people, and floods others with an amorphous unease.

I cannot count the days on which I found myself driving abruptly blinded by tears.