Quotes About Isolation

We're even more dazed than usual. Here we sit, empty, bewildered, contented. We have nothing to talk about, because nothing happens to us anymore, we're too poor, maybe life is sick of us. Why not?

Those people were pushing life and night and day in front of them. Life hides everything from people. Their own noise prevents them from hearing anything else. They couldn't care less. The bigger and taller the city, the less they care. Take it from me. I've tried. It's a waste of time.

In fatigue and solitude men emanate the divine.

A time comes when you're all alone, when you've come to the end of everything that can happen to you. It's the end of the world. Even grief, your own grief, doesn't answer you anymore, and you have to retrace your steps, to go back among people, it makes no difference who. You're not choosy at times like that, because even to weep you have to go back where everything starts all over, back among people. "What

Autant pas se faire d'illusions, les gens n'ont rien à se dire, ils ne se parlent que de leurs peines à eux chacun, c'est entendu. Chacun pour soi, la terre pour tous.

My one and only chicken, bequeathed to me by Robinson, dreaded the noon hour the same as I did, he'd go back in with me. For three weeks the chicken lived with me like that, following me like a dog, clucking constantly, seeing snakes wherever he went. One day of extreme boredom, I ate him.

I tried to gauge the degree of hopelessness to which I had fallen. I couldn't.

Her kentte böyle yerler vard?r iÅŸte, o kadar sersemce çirkindirler ki, orada hemen her zaman yaln?zs?n?zd?r

Why kid ourselves, people have nothing to say to one another, they all talk about their own troubles and nothing else. Each man for himself, the earth for us all. They try to unload their unhappiness on someone else when making love, they do their damnedest, but it doesn't work, they keep it all, and then they start all over again, trying to find a place for it.

Our youth has gone to the ends of the earth to die in the silence of the truth.

Then you're not coming? You'd rather go to the pen? Okay! . . . You don't care if I turn you in? ... You don't care if I love you or not? . . . You don't care about my future? You don't care about anything, do you? . . ." No, he says. In a way you're right . . . But it's not just you ... I don't care about anyone else either . . . Christ, don't take it as an insult! ... I know you're a sweet kid . . . But I don't want to be loved anymore ... It disgusts me! . . .

At a certain age, especially after certain hardships, you only want one thing: to be left alone! ...or better still, you'd like people to think you're dead! in a recent poll on 'what the young people think', they all thought I was dead... died in the Greenland! Not bad!

Nigdy niczego nie potrzebuj?... Odmawiam wszystkiego... Nie chc? ani poca?unku... ani r?cznika! Chc? tylko pogr??a? si? we wspomnieniach!... I ?eby zostawiono mnie w spokoju!... Wszystkie wspomnienia!... Okoliczno?ci! To wszystko, czego sobie ?ycz?!...

Pero el campo, debo decirlo en seguida, yo nunca he podido apreciarlo, siempre me ha parecido triste, con sus lodazales interminables, sus casas donde la gente nunca está y sus caminos que no van a ninguna parte. Pero, si se le añade la guerra, además, ya es que no hay quien lo soporte.

Not for-an empire would those lunatics have gone outside their minds. A madman's thoughts are just the usual ideas of a human being, except that they're hermetically sealed inside his head. The world never gets into his head, and that's the way he wants it. A sealed head is like a lake without an outlet, standing, stagnant.

Odande se svejedno povratih žalostan put Vignyja, misle?i o tome kako mi svi ti ljudi, te stvari, te prljave i sumorne ku?e više uop?e ništa ne kazuju, onako izravno u srce kao neko?, pa da ni ja sam, koliko sam god možda djelovao poput lisca, nemam više dovoljno snage, osje?ao sam to dobro, da idem još dalje, tako, posve sam.

Etre seul, c'est s'entrainer a la mort.

Al cabo del tiempo, le resultaron tan insoportables los desolados intervalos del día, que empezó a procurarse drogas a fin de aumentar sus períodos de sueño. El hachís le ayudó enormemente, y en una ocasión le trasladó a una región del espacio donde no existen las formas, pero los gases incandescentes estudian los secretos de la existencia. Y un gas violeta le dijo que esta parte del espacio estaba al exterior de lo que él llamaba el infinito.

De Herbert West, que fora o meu amigo durante os anos de universidade e tamén fóra dela, tan só podía falar cun intensi terror.

But they'd been blocked by the trauma, a force field created by the violence of that day, impermeable to words. Each of them occupied her own dark solitude; feelings could break through, but language couldn't.

gone out somewhere—had he

And now everyone's afraid of everyone else. A child with diarrhea is abandoned. A grandmother who vomits is left to die. The People are losing touch with their old ways. Fear is driving them from the traditions that have made them strong.

Things are really fucked up right now. We hardly see each other anymore and when we do, we go to sleep on opposite sides of the bed

In her newfound solitude, she felt alternately listless and liberated.