Quotes About Isolation

A poor man is like a foreigner in his own country.

Lack of friends means, stranger in one's own country.

He who is deserted by friends and relatives will often find help and sympathy from strangers.

Let me alone, and go in search of someone else.

Ez egy olyan kor, amikor az emberek mondanak egymásnak dolgokat, és az egészbÅ'l soha nem lesz párbeszéd.

I would rather die and to go hell than wake up one day and find myself an inmate in that guesthouse of gone minds, gone things, bad carpets, furniture that needs permission.

A prison is a prison, he says. Whatever you fill the time with.

believe that there's no such thing as society.

She is not a girl. She is a block of stone. She is a piece of wall. She is something against which other things impact without her permission or understanding.

the room had been lost 'til then. So, if you were in a room, I mean if you were just sitting in a room, could the room you were in get lost?

he always went straight to the machines and in a strange way it was released to because having to talk with someone, even the smallest, most casual talks, was sometimes quite hard because you always felt they judged you or you always felt shy or that you were saying a stupid or wrong thing. The pitfalls of human exchange, Sophia said.

Ell somriu. Es una noia amable, encantadora i intel·ligent, tot i que ja no és tan espavilada com quan era petita. Això, de vegades, l'entristeix. Fa una mena de feina que se li menja l'esperit. Està molt sola. Això segur. És com observar com es va erosionant.

it's like the people in the play are living in the same world but separately from each other, like their worlds have somehow become disjointed or broken off each other's worlds. But if they could just step out of themselves, or just hear and see what's happening right next to their ears and eyes, they'd see it's the same play they're all in, the same world, that they're all part of the same story.

Later that night, when she was home and falling asleep on the couch in front of the TV, Elisabeth would remember seeing his eyes open, and how it was like that moment when you just happen to see the streetlights come on and it feels like you're being given a gift, or a chance, or that you yourself've been singled out and chosen by the moment.

And after that, I watched our house collapse in on itself and I spent some time lying in the rubble. Then I vanished completely. I wasn't here at all. Then you phoned.

I can make no dent in anything. I have nothing left to break.

It's funny to be sitting on such an uncommunal communal chair.

Maybe it's easier to talk to someone who won't ever actually hear what you say.

And I withdrew into myself when I understood that they wanted to extract every thought in my head, one by one, like decayed teeth.

I've been looking out at the world through windows I've opened across the net. It's an extremely close-minded and twisted world.

When Johnnie went to France. Such a tame ending To a great romance-- Two lonely women With nothing much to do But get to know each other; She did and I did, too. Mornings at the Rectory, Learning how to roll Bandages, and always Saving light and coal. Oh, that house was bitter As winter closed in, In spite of heavy stockings And woolen next the skin. I was cold and wretched, And never unaware Of John more cold and wretched In a trench out there.

I feel so saturated with Maine, but am so separate from its people.

My grief was cold. It was nothing to share. It was nothing to speak about, nothing to feel.

The fact is, I have been dead so long and it has been simply such a grim shoving of the hours behind me…since the hideous summer of '78, when I went down to the deep sea, its dark waters closed over me and I knew neither hope nor peace.