Quotes About Isolation

As fi vrut sa pastrez doar creierul primitiv, sa ma topesc de dragoste si sa ma invinetesc de ura, sa salivez, sa gafai, sa tusesc, sa stranut, sa sughit, sa-mi bata inima si sa-mi filtrez sangele prin rinichi si sa-mi omor microbii in limfa, totul impreuna cu toti, cu grupul, cu gasca sau cu familia sau cu neamul sau cu specia sau cu lumea vie sau cu Dumnezeirea, doar sa nu mai traiesc schizofrenia gandirii, acest mizerabil pseudonim pentru singuratate.

Hearts have quite abandoned it

Citizens come and go in desolation.

Odonda je prošlo ve? mnogo vremena a on nije naslikao ništa poslije ona dva-tri sretna jesenja dana on nije dugo ve? doživio ništa što bi bilo vrijedno da se uop?e doživi vu?e se po kavanama živi me?u ovim dvonošcima koji nose kišobrane i uvijek kada govore govore o ne?em stvarnom o kruhu ili o mesu mi?u ?eljustima i zubalima od kau?uka a sve je jalovo i nema nikakvog višeg razloga za opstanak.

Filip ima potrebu da oslijepi da ogluši da se pretvori sav u gluhonijemu zrakopraznu tminu a ovdje je tako mra?no tako zagušljivo tako sitno kao u kakvoj kutiji sve je zalijepljeno tim kretenskim slikama tim hengelampama tako nisko da bi ?ovjek mogao glavom da probije krov tu nema zraka tu se ne može disati tu samo ?ovjeku srce bije u laktovima pa to je sve nesnosno hermeti?ki zalijepljeno

Godinama živio sam u našem smrdljivom zvjerinjaku gotovo gluhonijem, pritajen i povu?en u sebe kao puž i pravi puzavac (...)

The only time we waste is the time we spend thinking we are alone.

Não faz sentido... A maneira como você fala não é humana... Nada disso é humano, apenas ciência e livros, coisas presas em garrafas e caixas. O que você sabe sobre amar alguém?

Mas tudo parecia tão remoto, tão abstrato e estranho para ele. Quanto mais olhava para o mar e para o céu, mais afastado se sentia da humanidade.

Nunca senti um vazio tão incompreensível dentro de mim, e só então, enquanto meu corpo se erguia do banco, comecei a entender quão absolutamente sozinho eu estava no mundo.

He was, after all, an avid reader, preferring the detached solace of a book above most human interaction. Yet

Mitchell Zuckoff

she was a bookkeeper for the Port Authority, one week shy of her sixtieth birthday. She had limped down about one thousand steps from the 73rd floor, hobbled by fallen arches, a bad leg from having been hit by a car several months earlier, and assorted maladies. An office manager and others had helped Josephine to get this far, but she could go no farther and had sent her helpers ahead to safety. Now she was alone.

Alone on the floor of his elevator car, oblivious to everything beyond the walls of his box, Chris Young occasionally heard loud cries amid sirens and fire alarms. Nothing sounded like human agony, only some kind of vague emergency unfolding nearby. He knew nothing of planes or fires or people falling and jumping to their deaths.

There was Donald Trump. He had his name on gold-plated buildings and was the star of his own reality show. He had more than anyone could ever dream of, but as he stabbed his phone with his odd little orange fingers he looked like the saddest man on the planet.

Je gardais le silence ou grognais n'importe quoi ; – les mots ne me sortaient plus. Forcément, mon gosier n'était plus apte à former des sons mais exclusivement des pierres. Elles me harcelaient toutes cependant, comme elles harcelaient les autres hommes, ne sachant pas à quoi elles s'exposaient : j'étais prêt à vomir un torrent de pierres. »

My advisers built a wall between myself and my people. I didn't realize what was happening. When I woke up, I had lost my people.

While they wished to look out for each other, and to keep tabs on each other, staying in touch took a toll on them, serving as an unsettling reminder of a life not lived, and also they grew less worried each for the other, less worried that the other would need them to be happy, and eventually a month went by without any contact, and then a year, and then a lifetime.

Trahi de toutes parts, accablé d'injustices, Je vais sortir d'un gouffre où triomphent les vices ; Et chercher sur la terre un endroit écarté Où d'être homme d'honneur, on ait la liberté.

I am strongly moved to fly into some desert to avoid all approach of human creatures

She glanced round the garden. It was perfect, she thought. They were always gloomy about it, her mother and father. Terrible, terrible, they said - as though a few old weeds mattered! She liked it shaggy, its lawns white with daisies, the golden rod and the aster making tunnels of green gloom through which one could creep comfortably. But in the grown-up world, isolated behind the glass partition, such things counted.

hermetic world.

Aroon is always on the outside looking in, always the unwanted hanger-on, the gooseberry.

His uselessness ached. The