Quotes About Isolation

Eggs is a kind of a plucky, brave 11-year-old boy who thinks he is a boxtroll. And he's kind of one of these mythological feral children who are raised in isolation of humanity and, by virtue of that, have a deeper connection to humanity because they've been raised away from the poisons of society.

Solitude cherishes great virtues and destroys little ones.

Paying workers a decent level of sick pay means they can afford to isolate when they test positive for Covid and are less likely to spread the virus to their colleagues.

I was 24 when I was embroiled in a high-profile lawsuit. This was 2014, long before, en masse and on social media, we said #MeToo and #TimesUp. At the time, I felt completely alone. Visceral, hateful online harassment from strangers left me paranoid and anxious for years afterward.

Getting to Valle Nevado is half the fun. A serpentine road from Santiago wriggles up the spine of Andean peak for an hour, then traverses a valley and finally up again. The hotel is perched on a rugged mountain crag at 3,000m: no other sign of human development is visible from this spot, which is close to the Argentinean border.

There are many ways to be the odd girl out. Your pain can brief or lasting, visible to all or none, with one or many. One of the longest, quietest ways to be the odd girl out is to be friends with two girls who are closer to each other than to you.

Without siblings you get quite a skewed vision of yourself and of the world. I always felt I didn't understand how it worked. I remember feeling quite lonely.

they picked up devices and ran away from that feeling. In a state of perpetual distraction, they seemed to be losing the ability to be with others and losing their ability to be with themselves.

Before having a baby, I'd relished the freedom of a non-office job. But now I longed to get dressed every day and be in the company of verbal grownups. It was during this perfect storm of isolation and plummeting estrogen that I started to wonder if I'd made a mistake by leaving medical school.

In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day

If you'd asked me when I started as a therapist what most people came in for, I would have replied that they hoped to feel less anxious or depressed, to have less problematic relationships. But no matter the circumstances, there seemed to be this common element of loneliness, a craving for but a lack of a strong sense of human connection. A want. They rarely expressed it that way, but the more I learned about their lives, the more I could sense it, and I felt it in many ways myself.

as Fitzgerald put it, "In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day"), my stomach tightens and I feel paralyzed.

Why are we essentially outsourcing the thing that defines us as people?" Turkle asked in the video. Her question made me wonder: Was it that people couldn't tolerate being alone or that they couldn't tolerate being with other people?

I hadn't considered that if the only thing that keeps you going all day is knowing you'll get to turn on the TV after dinner, you probably are depressed.

I feel both isolated from poverty – I do not know what my neighbors need or if they need anything – and surrounded by it because now we know all about the hunger and death in the world, and everyone is my neighbor.

Wasn't that just the theme of her life? Marginalized on the outskirts.

When had she gotten so isolated? When had her world shrunk so small?

I loved you with the scientific excuse of the lonely.

More and more I lived in books, they were my comfort, refuge, addiction, compensation for the humiliations that attended contact with the world outside.

Eventually it comes to you: the thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely.

The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which makes you lonely.

The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Clay walk to his wagon, where he'd find no shade. Isolated. Alone. How simple it would be to prepare him a plate and walk to the wagon to give it to him. How difficult to step into his world of loneliness.

You can't imagine how much it hurts to be ignored by people… you respect. You don't know how loud the silence is or how deeply it cuts. It's bad enough watching the hatred touch my brothers. I'd rather die than see it touch you.