Quotes About Isolation

You can knock on a deaf man's door forever.

Mi fanno pena le persone che sono sole unicamente nella stanza da bagno, e in nessun altro tempo e luogo.

Il me semblait voir la vie bouger à côté, frotter et moudre les êtres humains, mais sans me prendre, quoi que je fisse pour m'imposer.

It's loneliness that makes us terrible and hurtful human beings.

place less walked on than any other spot in

My room is so quiet and empty it hurts.

Being without electronics for more than a few hours is like being kidnapped by a cult deprogrammer in a cheap brown suit and taken to a fluorescent motel

If your life was lonely, then your death is, too. You will dig your own grave and die as you lived.

Sometimes there is nothing to hold me together.

I could live alone forever if I just had a view of the sea.

Adeline, who is the girl that she once was, the bright Victorian girl shut behind dark paneled doors with her thirteen, fifteen, eighteen years of life and a Greek lexicon. She is the girl stopped in time who could not speak or feel at the side of her dead mother's bed. She keeps the cold, clear information of those days, unclouded by revision or the lies of age.

The eternal quest of the human being is to shatter his loneliness.

The eternal quest of the individual human being is to shatter his loneliness.

A sour view of things, I grant you; but one borne out by the history of our age and of the age to come, when Trinity--not the Christians' but Oppenheimer's--will turn Alamogordo sand to glass. In the future, dead cities will molder behind rusting thorns no prince can ever penetrate; dirty bombs will engender tribes of lepers--not by germs, but by deadly atoms; and radioactive isotopes will be left to cool for an age or more, sealed in burial chambers with a pharaoh's curse.

I'm very gregarious, but I love being in the hills on my own.

The world is full of bastards, the number increasing rapidly the further one gets from Missoula, Montana.

The question of the stranger in a society which estranges everybody from it--while forcing everybody to assimilate their own alienation--takes cover under dubious and sinister masks.

Obsesia premiilor semnific? o frustrare deloc stimulativ?. Crea?ia în art? fiind a solitudinii ?i originalit??ii, nu a onorurilor ?i reclamei...

Prison is a process, a succession of imprisonments. At first it operates only on a physical level, restricting your movement. Later, it extends to the psychological plane, encompassing your very perception. You come to exclude all thoughts, all visions of the free world.

Sometimes with the most intense pain a paralysis of sensibility occurs. The soul disintegrates--hence the deadly frost--the free power of the mind--the shattering, ceaseless wit of this kind of despair. There is no inclination for anything any more--the person is alone, like a baleful power--as he has no connection with the rest of the world he consumes himself gradually--and in accordance with his own principle he is--misanthropic and misotheos.

Not a movie to take your children to, nothing to show your ma: the little gougings, the wreck of the way they lived.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl.

The retreating slow crack of Blaisedell's bootheels had been a sound as lonely, and as fatal.

Herkes geçer diyor.Geçer mi olric? Herkes ne bilir ac?m?.Herkes ne bilsin ac?m?z?.Ya?ar gibi yapmaktan,özlemez gibi yapmaktan iyiymi? gibi yapmaktan..Nefes al?p onu içimde tutmaktan o nefeste bo?ulmaktan s?k?ld?m.Ki nefessizlikten de?il nefesten bo?ulmakt?r marifetimiz Olric. -Evet efendimiz -Bana kat?ld???n? bilmek güzel.Arada ses vermen güzel.?çimin sesi de olmasa ölürüm yaln?zl?ktan...