Quotes About Isolation

Perfect, complete, needing nothing, simply all there was, was the dark.

Jestli jsou o?i zrcadlem duÅ¡e, pak je Edward v maléru, protože nikdo není doma.

I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad memory brings the light Of other days around me. —THOMAS MOORE

I won't be alone with him, Livingston. He'll be alone with me.

I'm in a pocket of glowing light, protected from complicated relationships and huge mistakes, past and future.

He was fed up with me by then; I knew that: the way my sadness was a suit of armor. How securely I kept him out.

I'm a refugee from happiness with nowhere else to go.

Maybe this is hell, I thought: alone in my house in the middle of the night, stuck in an endless loop of thermal discomfort.

Even in your closest friendships, you're alone. Maybe it's your best friend who, in fact, reminds you, just by making it her business to try to know your heart, that no one can - that our fate is to suffer in isolation and then die. But it's our collective fate! So I guess I'm an optimist.

We onlies, we fear the nothing. We fear the winds that howl around the last one standing. We fear the black silence of carrying those ever-fading histories alone.

For most people, the ringing of a phone was a welcome sign. Someone was trying to reach them, to say hello, ask about their well-being, or make plans. For me, it triggered fear, intense anxiety, and heart-stopping panic.

You have reached the home and workplace of Roberto Natchez. I do not often take calls. I make no promise to return them. I have much to do. You may leave a message if you wish.

And there was a beutiful view But nobody could see Cause everybody on the island Was saying Look at me! Look at me.

and there was a beautiful view but nobody could see cause everybody on the island was saying look at me

Y había una hermosa vista, pero nadie la pudo ver, porque todos en la isla decían: ¡Mírenme! ¡Mírenme!

I need a new friend. I need a friend, period. Not a true friend, nothing close or share clothes or sleepover giggle giggle yak yak. Just a pseudo-friend, disposable friend. Friend as accessory. Just so I don't feel or look so stupid.

Do they choose to be so dense? Were they born that way? I have no friends. I have nothing. I say nothing. I am nothing.

This girl shivers and crawls under the covers with all her clothes on and falls into an overdue library book, a faerie story with rats and marrow and burning curses. The sentences build a fence around her, a Times Roman 10-point barricade, to keep the thorny voices in her head from getting too close.

We held hands when we walked down the gingerbread path into the forest, blood dripping from our fingers. We danced with witches and kissed monsters. We turned us into wintergirls, when she tried to leave, I pulled her back into the snow because I was afraid to be alone.

You're not dead, but you're not alive, either. You're a wintergirl.

To keep up appearances, I stomp my room and slam the door.

I see IT in the hallway. IT goes to Merryweather. IT is walking with Aubrey cheerleader. IT is my nightmare and I can't wake up.IT sees me. IT smiles and winks. Good thing my lips are stitched together or I'd throw up.

I am locked into the mirror and there is no door out.

Where did you live before you came here? I asked. The moon, he said smoothly. We left because the place had no atmosphere.