Quotes About Isolation

I spent my whole life protecting you and for what? So you could play Twister with your girlfriend while I'm the Freak of the Week?!

Repeated and prolonged proximity to moribund logging communities set off my misanthropy.

shakes alone." Nick

People who were ignored tend to be fearful, withdrawn, or hopeless—or become martyrs, because they're accustomed to not receiving help when they ask for it.

The story of an alienated young man cosseted by privilege, smothered by the comforts that surround him, and determined to listen to himself had come to feel personal in a way he had never imagined.

Lonely people have enthusiasms which cannot always be explained. When something strikes them as funny, the intensity and length of their laughter mirrors the depth of their loneliness, and they are capable of laughing like hyenas. When something touches their emotions, it runs through them like Paul Revere, awakening feelings that gather into great armies.

Abu-Jamal, serving a life-sentence now in the Pennsylvania prison, after over 29 years on death row, observes this about prison time: "Once loving relationships wither into yesterday's dust. Relatives die, their loss mourned in silent loneliness. Times, temperaments, mores change, and the caged move to outdated rhythms.

Time in prison—not just in solitary—becomes "a thick dull mallet that pounds consciousness into a coma.

The mind-numbing, soul-killing savage sameness that makes each day an echo of the day before, with neither thought nor hope of growth, makes prison the abode of Spirit death that it is for over a million men and women now held in U.S. hell holes.

They explicitly have proposed "brainwashing processes," isolation of inmates from family by locating them at great distance from their communities, aiming "to break or seriously weaken close emotional ties," withholding mail, and more. Such

According to Spitzer, social junk refers to those whom the state sees as beaten so far down, so nearly destroyed, that they just need to be moved aside. In the U.S., these include the mentally ill, drug addicts, lonely and frayed drifters, alcoholics, and cast-off impoverished elders.

As French novelist and essayist Jean Genet once wrote about prison, "it is in this place that racism reaches its cruelest pitch . . . in this place that racism becomes a kind of concentrate of racism.

U.S. death rows, still displaying over 3,000 persons, are similarly sites of torture. After a person is sentenced to death, he or she is held in situations approximating solitary confinement, sometimes for decades, under prolonged and anguishing anticipation of the state's calculation of an execution date. Judges

It didn't take a trauma to make you wear a mask. It didn't take your parents getting shot...or cosmic rays or a power ring...Just the perfect combination of loneliness and despair.

Solitude and loneliness are two separate things. One you choose out of wisdom, the other out of necessity." -Mark Miller

Not having the company of books made me feel even more isolated.

We realized that what too often comes from a conventional user-centered innovation process, even in partnership with some of the greatest companies on earth, is unicorns: ideas that are beautiful to think about and highly interesting, but that will never appear in the marketplace or your backyard, because they're conceived in blinkered isolation from the myriad of things that actually determine what makes it to market and what doesn't.

Alone, even in a crowd. Dead, but able to touch and sense the living. Real, but intangible.

It is really a matter of ending this silence and solitude, of breathing and stretching one's arms again.

The marathon lane is largely empty, mostly silent: the road of the damned rather than the saved.

The irony of writing is that it's a solitary profession in which the lone writer tries to address universal human concerns.

And so we find Fussell living alone in a flat unfurnished except for an exercise machine and 'A cardboard cut-out of Arnold with loin cloth and sword as Conan the Barbarian'. Thus the heterosexual bodybuilder's relationship to homosexuality is revealed as a sad kind of insubstantial shadow of it, a kind of mourning, a ghostly kind of love.

There's a perverse and bitter joy in feeling unique, but you pay dearly. Morrissey

Kafka didn't save me. He just told me I was drowning.