Quotes About Isolation

In questo caso il ricordo di lui mi ritornava, allora mi fermavo e nel silenzio della notte a voce alta chiedevo: Dormi? Ma lui non rispondeva. Effettivamente dormiva, però lontano, sotto le crode, in un cimitero di montagna, e con gli anni nessuno si ricordava più di lui, nessuno gli portava fiori.

we think there are beings like ourselves around us and instead there is nothing but ice and stones speaking a strange language; we are on the point of greeting a friend but our arm falls inert, the smile dies away because we are completely alone.

ninguém mais pode tomar para si uma mínima parte dela; que, se alguém sofre, os outros não vão sofrer por isso, ainda que o amor seja grande, e é isso o que causa a solidão da vida.

deu-se conta de que os homens, ainda que possam se querer bem, permanecem sempre distantes;

What a terrible mistake, thought Drogo, perhaps everything is like that — we think there are beings like ourselves around us and instead there is nothing but ice and stones speaking a strange language; we are on the point of greeting a friend but our arm falls inert, the smile dies away because we are completely alone.

It was at this period that Drogo realised how far apart men are whatever their affection for each other, that if you suffer the pain is yours and yours alone, no one else can take upon himself the least part of it; that if you suffer it does not mean that others feel pain even though their love is great: hence the loneliness of life.

Difficile è credere in una cosa quando si è soli, e non se ne può parlare con alcuno. Proprio in quel tempo Drogo si accorse come gli uomini, per quanto possano volersi bene, rimangano sempre lontani; che se uno soffre, il dolore è completamente suo, nessun altro può prenderne su di sé una minima parte; che se uno soffre, gli altri per questo non sentono male, anche se l'amore è grande, e questo provoca la solitudine della vita.

It helps to be able to be alone. 'Cuz writing is done alone, unless you collaborate, but I don't do that. Ask my ex-wife.

Those who turn the day into night, the young, the drug addict, the profligate, the drunken and that most miserable, the lover who watches all night long in fear and anguish. These can never again live the life of the day. When one meets them at high noon they give off, as if it were a protective emanation, something dark and muted. The light does not become them any longer. They begin to have an unrecorded look. It is as if they were being tried by the continual blows of an unseen adversary.

She was one of the most unimportantly wicked women of her time - because she could not let her time alone, and yet could never be a part of it.

Guido had lived as all Jews do, who, cut off from their people by accident or choice, find that they must inhabit a world whose constituents, being alien, force the mind to succumb to an imaginary populace.

There is a gap in "world pain" through which the singular falls continually and forever; a body falling in observable space, deprived of the privacy of disappearance; as if privacy, moving relentlessly away, by the very sustaining power of its withdrawal kept the body eternally moving downward, but in one place, and perpetually before the eye.

The world and its history were to Nora like a ship in a bottle; she herself was outside and unidentified, endlessly embroiled in a preoccupation without a problem.

In her face was the tense expression of an organism surviving in an alien element.

Samo?a je sudbina i prokletstvo svakog ko raspolaže mo?ima koje nema ljudska ve?ina.

I couldn't stand to be alone, yet I didn't want anyone to witness my dailiness, an indiscriminate collage of fragments, random encounters.

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.

All night long, in his cell, he burned with hatred. It did not matter what he thought, it was how he felt; and alone in the darkness of his cell, with the muttering noises of the tank around him, he felt like murdering the universe.

I don't get here much. Message me if you really want a response.

The writer is the person who stands outside society, independent of affiliation and independent of influence.

It was important for him to believe that he'd spent his life among people who kept missing the point.

Facts are lonely things

Being on the road has about 2 1/2 hours a day that are really great, and that's when you're onstage. The other 21 1/2 hours are very boring... It becomes like a void, and we chose to fill it with all the wrong things.

It was such a dismal time in Japan. It almost seemed as if they were dying as a people, their economy in tatters, the population dwindling, the remaining citizens isolated and adrift. Had they been wrong about everything? Kenzo wondered. The power of consensus and obligation, the imperatives of racial purity and harmony?