Quotes About Isolation

She thought her world had stopped falling apart, but she was wrong. It had simply become isolated, her focus narrowed to struggling not to continually grieve for all that had been irrevocably lost

He didn't know how one's flesh prickled when fear took hold. He didn't understand what it was like to gaze into the future and know that it would be nothing more than a dark and lonely place.

You don't know how loud the silence is or how deeply it cuts.

Your numbness is something perhaps you cannot help. It is what the world has done to you. But your coldness. That is what you do to the world.

She was not good on the phone. She needed the face, the pattern of eyes, nose, trembling mouth... People talking were meant to look at a face, the disastrous cupcake of it, the hide-and-seek of the heart dashing across. With a phone, you said words, but you never watched them go in. You saw them off at the airport but never knew whether there was anyone there to greet them when they got off the plane.

From the first two-hour class on, I had not said a word. I wanted them to know a little bit of what it is like to be deaf: lost, confused, unable to communicate.

she threw herself at the black fence, shrieking, wondering why she'd been abandoned.

The only way Tyrone had of communicating was to hit someone.

Have you ever been abandoned? Left behind? Sold out? Maybe not dropped literally down a dry hole, but that's how you felt.

Most people have never known solitude.... But there are a few of the other kind who can go back to their rooms anywhere and close the door on the whole world, and feel that they need never emerge.

Love is made by two people, in different kinds of solitude. It can be in a crowd, but in an oblivious crowd.

Where the rock's nakedness repels the shy foot, where the discouraged plant will no longer spread the seduction of its seed, where the ice-axe strikes only sparks, there I have found my pasture, above the blue kingdom of the flies. I am an animal of the heights.

Around it, the elements of a world were settling into place. An odd structure. I looked back to the time when I had first built that set, positioning various ghosts there, most of whom had never taken substance. I found my way back there, the same even today. As before, isolation, sadness, the impossibility of my settling down, of accepting one destiny among so many others I'd have found equally uninviting.

The countryside and woods kept me occupied a while longer. Then I took a violent dislike to them and confined myself to my room. The prodigious slowness of time, the horrible punctuality of the meals, my reading of what I found in the library of the house, and a persistent memory above all, gave me an urgent desire to flee from that miserable region. But how could I?

I am alone. I can see nothing at all. For ten minutes, I am lost.

she had come long ago to understand that loneliness was the curse of those who were free, even of all those who rose a little above the level of ordinary humanity.

loneliness was the curse of those who were free, even of all those who rose a little above the level of ordinary humanity. Looking

She did not read, she did nothing at all, and hours went by during which even her thoughts came to a standstill. At times she would abruptly throw herself on the floor and lie there pressing her face to the carpet with her eyes tightly closed, until a knock at the door – the maid bringing her lunch tray – made her scramble to her feet in sudden fright.

Take, for example, the way in which physicians responded to the high mortality rates of children in orphanages early in the last century. Assuming that microorganisms were to blame, doctors separated children from one another and kept handling by adults to a minimum in order to reduce the risk of infection. Despite these mandates, children continued to die at such alarming rates that both intake forms and death certificates were completed at admission for the sake of efficiency.

When a man is one of a kind, he will be lonely wherever he is.

Corner Seat Suspended in a moving night The face in the reflection train Looks at first sight as self-assured As your own face - But look again: Windows between you and the world Keep out the cold, keep out the fright; Then why does your reflection seem So lonely in the moving night?

The strange thing about ships is despite them being crowded and stinky and at the mercy of Nature, most times they are like wooden islands of freedom, free from petty concerns and the laws of the land.

Ge verlangt naar iemand, en als ge met twee zijt blijkt het dat ge toch gelukkiger, geruster en goddelijk eenzamer waart, alleen.

And what's the use of talking, if you already know that others don't feel what you feel?