Quotes About Isolation

When he sat on the Makepeace veranda, it was as if he'd gone to another country

One manor house remained unoccupied and unsold. It sat on a small rise, a menacing, ugly house, a barrow, deposited and deserted by some 1920's millionaire and left there to testify to the power of money to create a permanent and quarrelsome unloveliness.

Living in West Texas is sort of like living in Hell, but without the favorable climate and charming people.

More and more I find myself at a loss for words and didn't want to hear other people talking either. Their conversations seemed false and empty. I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone.

I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone.

Knowing he was suffering pained me. That's the way love tangles you up. I couldn't stop loving him, and couldn't shut off the feelings of wanting to care for him— but I also didn't have to run to answer his letters. I was hurting, too, and no one was running to me.

I saw him on the cover of Life magazine and heard about the wars he covered bravely and the other feats - the world-class fishing, the big-game hunting in Africa, the drinking enough to embalm a man twice his size.The myth he was creating out of his own life was big enough to take it for a time - but under this, I knew he was still lonely.

Sorry was maybe the loneliest feeling of all, I understood, because it only brought you back to yourself.

There was nowhere to go in the house to escape my dark thoughts.

I might just crawl under my bed and not come out until I'm old and doddering and can't remember feeling anything for anyone at all.

a lot of the time we don't tell anyone because we can't.

There was a feeling, as you sat and ate your nice sandwich or had your tea, that you were on the slowly tipping edge of nothingness and might fall forward at any moment, and that if you did, it was possible that nothing would know you'd ever been there at all. Jim

All I knew of men beyond farm life and work were the warm, confusing thoughts I sometimes had late at night now, about being touched or taken, thoughts that could make my cheeks hot even when I was alone in my hut.

I wasn't nearly so clever. More and more I found myself at a loss for words and didn't want to hear other people talking either. Their conversations seemed false and empty. I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone.

In the center if the road, I saw a heavy black sewing machine on its side, as if it had crawled out onto the street to die.

In the center of the road, I saw a heavy black sewing machine on its side, as if it had crawled out onto the street to die.

Firs and pines and Sitka spruce thicken around me, pushing in from all directions, black-tipped fairy-tale trees that knit shadows out of nothing, night out of day—as if they've stolen all the light and hidden it somewhere.

Outside, the storm picked up, dropping a soundless sheet of white.

All I wanted was to be alone on a sea of unconsciousness, slipping away as the bed became a raft and my mind let go of itself.

I didn't answer him and didn't open my eyes, and there was a moment of perfect vertigo, when I heard the whooshing of the surf again and felt I was part of it, swirling with it and also standing still, swept up an sewn into the sea and into the universe, but also very, very alone.

Mine hadn't, and neither had Cameron's. All the scars I still carry, she carries, too. Trust issues, attachment trouble, identity problems, feelings of emptiness, isolation, alienation, and despair—cracks in the soul that can't be mended. I've seen it. I've lived it. How anyone with a hole inside them will search on and on, sometimes all their lives, for ways to fill it.

A town like this feels so safe and apart from the outside world. You start to wonder if it's dangerous.

I hoped that poor soul in the rowboat had found his way to shore. But not everyone out in a storm wants to be saved.

It sounds like caveman stuff to me. If he keeps you in animal skins, tending the cook fire, no other man will see you, let alone want you.