Quotes About Isolation

Al estar rodeado de tanta gente, de estar tan expuesto, de no tener tiempo para aquellos placeres autistas que te alimentan, uno termina por echarse de menos.

I don't remember ever feeling lonely; in fact, on the rare occasions when I met other children I found their games and their talk far less interesting than the adventures and dialogues I read in my books.

Non è solo chi è solo; è solo chi si sente solo.

Traté de imaginar que había hombres que dejaban transcurrir su vida —su única vida— encerrados entre los muros de una casa y las estrechas calles de una ciudad sin ver jamás ponerse el Sol sobre la raya azul del mar y me dije que debía existir un infierno especial para los que, incapaces de ver lo que Dios creó, permanecen ciegos y sordos ante la inmensa maravilla de la naturaleza

One of the penalties of an ecological education, is that one lives alone in a world of wounds." Aldo Leopold (although I would personally strike out 'alone', thankfully)

Solitude, the one natural resource still undowered of alphabets, is so far recognized as valuable only by ornithologists and cranes.

One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of wounds.

If one's different, one's bound to be lonely.

An unchangeable colour rules over the melancholic: his dwelling is a space the colour of mourning. Nothing happens in it. No one intrudes. It is a bare stage where the inert I is assisted by the I suffering from that inertia. The latter wishes to free the former, but all efforts fail, as Theseus would have failed had he been not only himself but also the Minotaur; to kill him then, he would have had to kill himself

A mi noche no la mata ningún sol.

I don't know about birds nor do I know the history of fire. But I believe that my solitude should have wings

Como quien no quiere la cosa. Ninguna cosa. Boca cosida. Párpados cosidos. Me olvidé. Adentro el viento. Todo cerrado y el viento adentro.

Quien siente mucho, se jode y no encuentra palabras y entonces no habla y es ésa su condena.

Estoy ebria de soledad, de espera, de deseos abstractos, de entidades llenas de designios mágicos. ¡Qué noche para morir! ¡Qué instante para hacer el amor!

What happened to Kafka is the same as what happened to me. He withdrew, he went too far into solitude and knew he must have known, you never come back from there.

La poesía produce una soledad tan bella…

night opens I enter night shuts I don't leave

nadie más espantada que yo, más empantanada, con mis hermosos sentimientos y mi fabulosa sensibilidad.

Mi justificación —ante nadie— es mi enfermedad. Si a alguien le rompen un tendón o un ligamento no lo acusan de «desarmonía física», no lo acusan porque llora y se lamenta. A mí me sucedió algo y yo estoy enferma. Lo anoto porque no tengo a quién decírselo.

Fiesta de la autodestrucción —imposible, imposible cualquier cosa, todo imposible, imposible el amor, todo imposible,

but the day rains over the emptiness of everything

you don't speak you no longer speak to yourself even the she in the mirror has disappeared

you've built your home you've fledged your birds you've beaten the wind with your bones you've finished alone what no one began

what happened (to Kafka) is the same as what happened to me: he withdrew he went too far into solitude and knew — he must've known — you never come back from there