Quotes About Isolation

the English mode of existence in which everybody acts as if everybody else ( with few, or no exceptions ) was either an enemy or a bore.

Real relief from loneliness requires the cooperation of at least one other person, and yet the more chronic our loneliness becomes, the less equipped we may be to entice such cooperation.

When we are lonely we not only react more intensely to the negatives; we also experience less of a soothing uplift from the positives.

As redes operacionais tornam as pessoas solitárias.

Children learn what they live. Put kids in a class and they will live out their lives in an invisible cage, isolated from their chance at community; interrupt kids with bells and horns all the time and they will learn that nothing is important or worth finishing; ridicule them and they will retreat from human association; shame them and they will find a hundred ways to get even. The habits taught in large-scale organizations are deadly.

Needle marks scarred her hands, the only place on her body she could still find a vessel. She was dissolving and injecting ten to twenty pills a day. The highs weren't really highs anymore, just a break from the bone-deep pain of withdrawal.

I like hotels where you can check in at an electronic kiosk and never have to speak to a desk clerk. I dislike a gold-wrapped chocolate on my pillow, a turned-down sheet, a bathroom towel folded so that it resembles a flower, or any other "personal touch" that gives humans the illusion that they are surrounded by a friendly universe. In reality, the universe is neutral about our existence. Only dogs care.

The American playwright and painter Lorraine Hansberry said, "The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely.

Hypens divide

O me, this place is hell.

He opened his front door and heard the TV from the living room. He could see his parents sitting side by side, staring at the screen. He didn't bother to say hello. His parents generally didn't care whether he was home or not. From the hallway Gavin stared at them for a minute, shaking his head in disbelief. They were his parents. They were supposed to be on his side.

I have come to believe that in the life of every man, late or soon, there is a moment when he knows beyond whatever else he might understand, and whether he can articulate the knowledge or not, the terrifying fact that he is alone, and separate, and that he can be no other than the poor thing that is himself.

she had never been alone to care for her own self one day of her life, nor could it ever have occurred to her that she might become responsible for the well- being of another.

But we were never really - together. Even when we made love.

Stafford was late again, as he had expected he would be late. He signaled the bartender and indicated his empty glass. He burrowed a little more securely in his separate awareness, he nestled a little more deeply into his private darkness, and he waited. In the long run, he thought, that is all one does; wait for people or keep people waiting.

She was an only child, and loneliness was one of the earliest conditions of her life.

So I must be locked up, where I can be safely irresponsible, where I can do no harm.

For I have returned to that learning which I abandoned many years ago, and it is likely that I should not have done so had not I been condemned to this loneliness; I sometimes can almost believe that the world in seeking to punish me has done me a service it cannot imagine.

We are not shut away into individual cages from which we can reach out only with inadequate words.

There was the feeling, too, that she no longer belonged – that she had become a stranger in another people's world. It had all altered so much; first changing into a place that it was difficult to understand, then growing so much more complex that one gave up trying to understand. No wonder, she thought, that the old become possessive about things; cling to objects which link them with the world that they could understand…

he belonged. We did not, and because we did not, we had no positive—we were condemned to negatives, to not revealing ourselves, to not speaking when we would, to not using what we knew, to not being found out—to a life of perpetual deception, concealment, and lying.

There was nothing but myself. I hung in a timeless, spaceless, forceless void that was neither light, nor dark. I had entity, but no form; awareness, but no senses; mind, but no memory. I wondered, is this – this nothingness – my soul? And it seemed that I had wondered that always, and should go on wondering it for ever…

I knew in my very heart that I would not be able to sustain myself for long alone.

Most of the villages showed empty streets, and the countryside around them was as deserted as if the whole human race and most of its animals had been spirited away. Until we came to Steeple Honey.