Quotes About Isolation

I lock my door upon myself - a poet had said. I turn my key and there's -- happiness.

There's a sort of melancholy romance to the experience of being lonesome. I think of reading as a kind of romantic alone activity that you're doing. The image would include being curled up somewhere on a rainy day and you're reading very intensely involved in a world that no one can see because it's inside your head.

Much of the time he lay part-dressed on his bed, sipping gin, and thinking, and thinking, - though what it was, of which he thought, he seemed not to know.

The master bedchamber at the top of a flight of badly worn and mossy stone steps, overlaid with grime, and the hard-dried excrement and remains of vermin—overlooking, from its single (barred) window, a marshy graveyard, the aged markers tilted and filthy from neglect, spiky grasses growing all around, and pools of brackish water interspersed among the graves.

Especially she dreaded the isolation of the swimmer, amid propelled and splashing figures yet she was isolated, always one isolated in the water where thoughts await like froth on the surface of the water that smelled like chemicals.

Marianne's face was streaked with tears that glistened like acid and her skin was drained of color and she could not bring herself to look at Dr. Oakley behind his desk, nor at Corrine.

First thing is when your on Death Row long enough you don't ask WHO AM I because you have learnt nobody would be there anyway.

There is a carpet, or a strip of something, that I am walking on...and it is being rolled up behind me. So that there is only the strip I am walking on, with nothing in front or behind me. Sometimes, I am so very tired - but there is no place to rest.

Alone, alone! Long she would recall the strangeness of the word, an echo aerated by melancholy vowels—alone. AT

He said oh honey. how long have you known? Meaning, how long have you been alone, knowing?

Being lonely was a female sickness for which the cure was the tattoo freak & the tattoo freak was also the sickness.

A woman who has lost her husband is invalid, thus an invalid. In

It is the most horrific thought—my husband died among strangers.

You can be on easy terms with such a man, you can see that he likes you, then by mistake you say the wrong word or make the wrong assumption and something shuts down in his face. Like an iron grating over a pawnshop window on a rundown street in Atlantic City. That abrupt.

Nothing is more lonely than fucking 'good works.

The Holy Spirit showed me that when I put up walls to keep others out I also wall myself into solitary place of confinement.

her face was like a party that everyone had left.

That town sits on the coals of the earth, at the very mouth of hell. They say that when people from there go to hell, they come back for a blanket.

That town sits on the coals of the earth, at the very mouth of hell. They say that when people from there die and go to hell, they come back for a blanket.

No había aire. Tuve que sorber el mismo aire que salía de mi boca, deteniéndolo con las manos antes de que se fuera. Lo sentía ir y venir, cada vez menos; hasta que se hizo tan delgado que se filtró entre mis dedos para siempre

Nadie vino a verla. Así estuvo mejor. La muerte no se reparte como si fuera un bien. Nadie anda en busca de tristezas.

Habíamos dejado el aire caliente allá arriba y nos íbamos hundiendo en el puro calor sin aire.

No me oyes? --pregunté en voz baja. Y su voz me respondió: --Dónde estás? --Estoy aquí, en tu pueblo. Junto a tu gente. No me ves? --No, hijo, no te veo. Su voz parecía abarcarlo todo. Se perdía más de la tierra. --No te veo.

Me sentí en un mundo lejano y me dejé arrastrar. Mi cuerpo, que parecía aflojarse, se doblaba ante todo, había soltado sus amarras y cualquiera podía jugar con él como si fuera de trapo.