Quotes About Isolation

Once, we were close and close-knit, but now we are unmoored islands, each alone, each a separate planet, drifting farther and farther away, content to turn ever inward . . . This is no idle solipsism; it has taken on the fragile brightness of truth. Cities turned from cities, self-devouring. Governments fragmenting into fragments of fragments. Entertainment become a solitary diversion. Solo adventures.

In some unquantifiable way, too, you believe Lowry's approach is pushing the Southern Reach farther away from the answers. Like an astronaut headed into the oblivion of vast and empty space who, in flailing about, only speeds up the moment when he is beyond rescue.

De haber habido algo a lo que disparar se habría sentido más tranquila; pero solo teníamos lo que acechara en nuestra imaginación.

Jonathan shuddered. There were birds in his head now, as if escaping from the empty feeders above their heads. Ghost birds. Fluttering around inside his skull, and he could not get them out. Yet still he went on, wanting to burst through the nettle and tall trees, find a copse and feel the sunlight on his face. It was getting colder and colder in the haunted mansion.

Neanche la sua bellezza può essere compresa e, quando intravedi la bellezza nella desolazione, qualcosa dentro di te cambia. La desolazione cerca di colonizzarti

in the off-season, when even the beach is a poem about loneliness.

A name was a dangerous luxury here.

The word "Annihilation" was followed by "help induce immediate suicide." We had all been given self-destruct buttons, but the only one who could push them was dead.

Now he would inhabit the very center of corridors. He would put no hand to any surface. He would believe like a ghost that knew if it made contact with anyone or anything its touch would slide through and that creature would then know that it existed in a state of purgatory.

With sunset came a premonition of beauty: The pre-dusk sky already had so many stars in it. Before he activated the lens, he sat there for a few minutes, staring up at them, at the deep blue of the sky that framed them. At such moments, he felt as if he really did live on the edge of the known world. As if he was alone, in the way he wanted to be alone: when he chose to be and not when the world imposed it on him.

The hell of that, the hell of nothing at all, which feels as if you are reliving every moment of your life at the Southern Reach-descending for no reason, for nothing, to find nothing.

Earth people made him uncomfortable, particularly in groups.

I lay there, panting, as the skin of Borne around me, the flesh of Borne, went prickly and rigid again and the cilia that rubbed up against me turned into tiny mouths that screamed into my clothes, arms and legs and hair. Borne was screaming silently into his own body because he could not scream on the outside.

Nada que viva y respire es realmente objetivo, ni siquiera en estado de aislamiento, ni siquiera aunque lo único que poseyera al cerebro fuese el deseo autoinmolador de la verdad.

The effect of this cannot be understood without being there. The beauty of it cannot be understood, either, and when you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. Desolation tries to colonize you.

W]hen you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. Desolation tries to colonize you.

I am walking forever on the path from the border to base camp. It is taking a long time, and I know it will take even longer to get back. There is no one with me. I am all by myself. The trees are not trees the birds are not birds and I am not me but just something that has been walking for a very long time…

Having a secret is isolating." Try, as much as possible, not to hide your flaws or perceived differences.

The daily act of writing remains as demanding and maddening as it was before, and the pleasure you get from writing - rare but profound - remains at the true heart of the enterprise. On their best days, writers all over the world are winning Pulitzers, all alone in their studios, with no one watching.

We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.

It's every man for himself," he said, and went back to reading. After my mother had died and he'd been laid off from his machinist job over in Milton, he'd retreated into near silence and the print reality of other worlds. Connection was tough for him and only getting tougher as he aged. Maggie asked me once if the reason I wanted to become a writer was to somehow make contact with him.

My dear Miss Parker, aside from the old priest, and now you, no one has lived in that building for three years!

Rain pounded on the Packard, reverberating through the car and into her bones. The wipers going full speed, banging on the steel frame of the windshield like a metronome out of control, she still could not see more than a few feet in front of her.

And just stared, unmoved, as though watching a world in which she was no longer an inhabitant.