Quotes About Isolation

He wanted to stay there, at the bar, around people but not involved with them.

I loved the late-night slow burn of being out, my mind turning over some problem, some piece of data, while able to appear sociable but still existing apart.

I think this is an asylum. But so is the rest of the world.

Solitude could press down on a person, seem to demand that action be taken.

You wouldn't understand me even if I made sense.

Everyone always tells you that you become more alone as you get older. People write about it in books. They shout it out on street corners. They mumble it in their sleep. But it's always a shock when it happens to you.}

I felt as if the whole house was like a living organism slowly and imperceptibly digesting me by the action of some stupefying gastric juice.

I am writing this sitting in the waterlogged lobby of a rotting, half-finished condominium complex. I am surrounded by cavorting freshwater seals and have two pearl-handled revolvers in my lap, a bottle of vodka in my right hand, a human body in the freezer in the kitchens behind me, and a rather large displaced rockhopper penguin staring me in the face.

I never much understood the point of the world of men. How they fed off each other. How they motivated themselves. I mean, I got the purpose, but I navigated that world the way an astronaut would an alien landscape. Trying not to breathe the same air. Which was impossible, of course.

My loneliness began to be filled with ghosts. That is the worst thing about loneliness, how easily it becomes filled.

Hellooo Pelican, come in, come in? No? Okay. You just be that way, you petulant bird.

This was really the only thing I discovered in him after his return: a deep and unending solitude, as if he had been granted a gift that he didn't know what to do with. A gift that was poison to him and eventually killed him. But would it have killed me?

Dead astronauts were no different than living astronauts. Neither could shed their skin. Neither could ever become part of what they journeyed through. Suits were premade coffins. Space was the grave. Better to think of yourself as dead already. There was freedom in that; liberated the mind to roam quadrants farther than the body.

For some reason, Area X was very hard on linguists, almost as hard as it was on priests.

The truth of the scholar, alone in his study, does not always accord with what the world at large considers to be true.

I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit now—not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark—like this. If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it would be easier! Down-stairs

La desdicha, como el dolor físico, iguala los minutos. Los días se convierten en el mismo día, los actos en el mismo acto y las personas en un sólo personaje inútil.

Estaba solo, era ajeno al mundo. Sintió que siempre había estado a un lado, mirando pasar automóviles, personas, sucesos.

Nada son cuatro letras que significan nada», y la nada era estar fuera de ese cuarto, de esa vida, era no volver a caminar el mismo día durante tantos años: el sosiego.

Supersticiosa, tocaba los objetos para comunicarse con el mundo aparente y cogía un libro o un salero como punto de apoyo para no caer en el vacío. Así establecía un fluido mágico entre la Isabel real y la Isabel irreal y se sentía consolada.

When one cannot trust, a vicious cycle begins. The less you trust, the less likely you are to have friends or intimate relationships. The more isolated you become, the less you can trust others. When others do not seek you out, or you cannot seem to make friends, you may think that there is something wrong with you.

As abused children grow up, they may view themselves as bad, and everybody else as good, or, at least better. On the other hand, some abused children can see themselves as good, and others bad. They can become afraid of others and avoid them for fear of getting hurt. In its extreme form, these people can expect only pain and suffering from others, and see everyone as a potential attacker.

Children who grow up being put down, held back, beaten, taken advantage of, ignored, and misused or maltreated, find it hard to trust, and expect little from others except pain. They protect themselves by staying isolated and may frequently feel that as long as they don't have to relate to anyone else, they will manage. Loneliness may become a way of life for these children. An abused child often plays alone, makes friends only with a pet, or creates a rich fantasy life.

At home in the nursery, I usually played alone. Actually, I seldom played, I spoke to the wallpaper. The many dark circles in the pattern of the wallpaper seemed like people to me. I made up stories in which they appeared, either I told them the stories or they played with me, I never got tired of the wallpaper people and I could talk to them for hours.