Quotes About Isolation

Dualism is the proto-dream underlying clock time and all modern dreaming. Dualism might be defined as the illusion that there are two discreet principles in the universe: self and other. Dualism implies isolation, conflict, and a continuous struggle of opposing forces. For this reason, actions based on dualistic vision are simplistic, aggressive, and destructive.

I am in a waiting room without end, without location, without time or place. If I go outside, I die before I get any answers. I exist only in a theoretical way, like a point on a coordinate plane. I am the simulation.

I have to tell you how nice that sound is. I haven't heard laughter in weeks.

But finally we were sure the line was free . . . and there was our messenger of good will, love, and faith, 2,000 feet below on the sandbar. In a sense we had delivered the first Gospel-message-by-sign-language to a people who were a quarter of a mile away vertically, fifty miles horizontally, and continents and wide seas away psychologically.

You have entered an abnormal, lonely, and unwelcome new world where you are nothing but an island of sadness.

Life feels pointless.

For Lily, isolation was an important tool for grieving, as it brought harmony to her inner and outer realities. She instinctually knew this, and she also knew that getting back out there was premature for her. And she knew the time would come.

They explained their concerns and she said, "I feel a kind of isolation that you'll never be able to understand. What you see is a mere fraction of what's happening inside, but at least my inner and outer worlds are reflecting each other. You wouldn't want me to throw worlds off balance, would you?

There was the sheer Antarctic landscape, and the mind moving across it like a brush on canvas, until the brush was laid aside, and the snow buried it.

But in spite of my great desire for intimacy, I've always been a loner. Perhaps when the longing for connection is as strong as it is in me, when the desire is for something so deep and true, one knows better than to try. One sees that this is not the place for that.

Funny how an animal can hurt your feelings when you're all alone.

he was learning a lot about the kind of loneliness some people endured. He

I go up to my room, close the door and sit on my bed, my hands clasped in my lap, and in my chest is a raggedy sadness. Outside, the sun hangs at the horizon, then drops. Day is done. (page 60)

He resents the very posture of people who are online, the way they bend their backs over their various devices, blocking out any possibility that they might engage with a real live person, who would never come with enough apps to satisfy them

He resents the very posture of people who are online, the way they bend their backs over their various devices, blocking out any possibility that they might engage with a real live person, who would never come with enough apps to satisfy them, let's face it.

Never to lie is to have no lock to your door, you are never wholly alone

Karen, her elbows folded on the deck-rail, wanted to share with someone her pleasure in being alone: this is the paradox of any happy solitude.

Rich women live at such a distance from life that very often they never see their money — the Queen, they say, for instance, never carries a purse.

Solitary and farouche people don't have relationships; they are quite unrelatable.

Depression on my left, Loneliness on my right. They don't need to show me thier badges. I know these guys very well.

They flank me - depression on my left, loneliness on my right. They don't need to show their badges. I know these guys very well. ... Then they frisk me. They empty my pockets of any joy I had been carrying there. Depression even confiscates my identity; but he always does that.

We're miserable because we think that we are mere individuals, alone with our fears and flaws and resentment and mortality.

But he [Depression] just gives me that dark smile, settles into my favorite chair, puts his feet on my table and lights a cigar, filling the place with his awful smoke. Loneliness watches and sighs, then climbs into my bed and pulls the covers over himself, fully dressed, shoes and all. He's going to make me sleep with him again tonight, I just know it.

I am alone, I am all alone, I am completely alone. Grasping this reality, I let go of my bag, drop to my knees and press my forehead against the floor. There, I offer up to the universe a fervent prayer of thanks. First in English. Then in Italian. And then - just to get the point across - in Sanskrit.