Quotes About Isolation

En los primeros tiempos el exilio era, entre otras cosas, el duro hueso de vivir distante. Ahora es también el de morirse lejos.

A confession : solitude no longer hurt me.

Hablo de tu soledad Hablo de tu infinita soledad dijo el fulano quisiera entrar a saco en tu memoria apoderarme de ella desmantelarla desmentirla despojarla de su último reducto

Hija única. Yo también fui hijo único. Y no es fácil, uno acaba por sentirse desamparado.

Luna congelada Con esta soledad alevosa tranquila con esta soledad de sagradas goteras de lejanos aullidos de monstruoso silencio de recuerdos al firme de luna congelada de noche para otros de ojos bien abiertos con esta soledad inservible vacía se puede algunas veces entender el amor.

Hablo a solas porque tengo miedo de olvidarme como se habla

Debe ser una regla general que los solitarios no simpaticemos ¿O será que sencillamente, somos antipáticos?

Así estamos, cada uno en su orilla, sin odiarnos, sin amarnos, ajenos.

Es más fácil imaginar la muerte de una persona que la de cien o mil...Multiplicado, el sufrimiento se vuelve abstracto. No es fácil conmoverse por cosas abstractas.

But never in his saddest dreams had he thought he'd spend his last years dusting this enormous old house for no one at all.

But I didn't cry. I sat stiller than I'd ever sat, just kind of falling in on myself, getting denser and smaller, and all the while I screamed. Not with my vocal chords, nothing so pure and ordinary as that. My mouth didn't move, but I screamed with my whole body, my hair, my fingers, the back of my neck, the pit of my stomach, the pores of my skin. I screamed until I didn't have any voice left, until I was empty, and then I floated, shivering, in an ice-cold ocean of silence.

Not returning phone calls is the severest form of torture in the civilized world.

I couldn't let go of the thought that it had, in fact, been he, restless and moody Heathcliff. Day after day, he floated through all the Wal-Marts in America, searching for me in a million lonely aisles.

We found ourselves veiled and separated from our friends.

Eulalie in a remote fashion belonged to him, Jody, to do with as he pleased, if only to throw potatoes at her.

Now loneliness washed intolerably over her, as though she were drowning in a cold black pond.

Dogs could die, and bears and deer and other people. That was acceptable, because it was remote. His father could not die. The earth might cave in under him in one vast sink-hole and he could accept it. But without Penny, there was no earth. Without him there was nothing.

Being alone was easier. No risk, just loneliness. No one ever died from that.

The first thing you learn is how to be alone. You learn, or suffer. It is an easy lesson. You suffer more when people are around. People make you feel alone. And loneliness is a quiet wound.

I've never been lonely, just alone. I think people who can't stand being alone are silly. How do they know who they are or what they're like if they're never alone?

This Christmas will be dramatically different for most of us from our Christmases past. But the comfort of reading is a constant. It's a salve for isolation and a haven when we need to escape into someone else's imagination.

As the show's executive producer, I envisioned something akin to "Gilligan's Island" meets Lord of the Flies meets Ten Little Indians mets "The Real World." "Survivor" marks a return to a core element of adventure: staying alive.

Slipped beneath the minnow Pea front door] Nollopton Monty No-way 6 Insane woman named Ella: Retreat is what we want. Go away. Let we alone. Anonymess

The thing with me. I can't stick musicians. I've thought about this. I can't stand them, and being stuck in a studio with them I think that's my strength I can hear what they can't.