Quotes About Isolation

La mer est le cimetière du château d'If.

Ah  ! murmura-t-il, j'entends parler un homme. » Il y avait quatre ou cinq ans qu'Edmond n'avait entendu parler que son geôlier, et pour le prisonnier le geôlier n'est pas un homme : c'est une porte vivante ajoutée à la porte de chêne, c'est un barreau de chair ajouté à ses barreaux de fer.

these groups followed some solitary passer-by, hurrying his steps; one after another the doors were closed, one after

Immobilisé, je me mis à vivre avec moi, ce qui n'était pas dans mes habitudes ; et cette intimité nouvelle me fit découvrir le miracle de se côtoyer réellement, préambule à tout amour réel.

Not only does democracy make every man forget his ancestors, but it hides his descendants, and separates his contemporaries from him; it throws him back forever upon himself alone, and threatens in the end to confine him entirely within the solitude of his own heart.

Each man is forever thrown back on himself alone, and there is danger that he may be shut up in the solitude of his own heart.

Americans owe nothing to any man, they expect nothing from any man; they acquire the habit of always considering themselves as standing alone, and they are apt to imagine that their whole destiny is in their own hands. Thus democracy throws [a man] back forever upon himself alone, and threatens in the end to confine him entirely within the solitude of his own heart.

Everyone shuts himself up tightly within himself and insists upon judging the world from there.

Every year, therefore, the inequality of taxation separated classes and isolated individuals more deeply than ever before. From the moment when taxation had as its purpose, not to strike those most capable of paying, but those least capable of defending themselves against it, the monstrous consequence of sparing the rich and burdening the poor was inevitable.

Aristocracy links everybody, from peasant to king, in one long chain. Democracy breaks the chain and frees each link. . . . Thus, not only does democracy make men forget their ancestors, but also clouds their view of their descendants and isolates them from their contemporaries. Each man is forever thrown back on himself alone, and there is danger that he may be shut up in the solitude of his own heart

Despotism, suspicious by its very nature, views the separation of men as the best guarantee of its own permanence and usually does all it can to keep them in isolation. No defect of the human heart suits it better than egoism; a tyrant is relaxed enough to forgive his subjects for failing to love him, provided that they do not love one another...he gives the name of 'good citizens' to those who retreat into themselves.

Le despotisme, qui, de nature, est craintif, voit dans l'isolement des hommes le gage le plus certain de sa propre durée, et il met d'ordinaire tous ses soins à les isoler. Il n'est pas de vice du cÅ"ur humain qui lui agrée autant que l'égoïsme : un despote pardonne aisément aux gouvernés de ne point l'aimer, pourvu qu'ils ne s'aiment pas entre eux.

Each of them, withdrawn and apart, is like a stranger to the destiny of all the others; his children and his particular friends form the whole human species for him; as for dwelling with his fellow citizens, he is beside them, but he does not see them; he touches them and does not feel them; he exists only in himself and for himself alone, and if a family still remains for him, one can at least say that he no longer has a native country.

One of the things that everybody knows about space travel but never mentions is its aphrodisiac quality.

He was Gully Foyle, the oiler, wiper, bunkerman; too easy for trouble, too slow for fun, too empty for friendship, too lazy for love.

There is no sun.

To be lyrical you've got to stuff your ears up and keep other people out of your life- if you have one.

An old man – utterly alone – he had staked his all on a throw – and lost.

She liked to disappear, even when she was in the same room as other people. It was a talent, as it was a curse.

I wasn't good company, that was true, and people avoided me, but that was all right. I was too busy dreaming.

The lonelier you are, the more you pull away, until humans seem an alien race, with customs and a language you can't begin to understand.

Life was beautiful, everyone knew that, but it was also bitter and bleak and unfair as hell and where did that leave a person? On the outs with the rest of the world. Someone who sat alone in the cafeteria, reading, escaping from his hometown simply by turning the page.

But at long last she had some privacy and could go more than ten minutes without someone getting in her business, informing her that everything she did was wrong. As if she didn't already know that.

a place where people heard what she said but not what she meant. She wanted to be known, but no one knew her.