Quotes About Isolation

She was lost in pine and mountainside, her knuckles bony white.

As for me, I remained a few moments longer. I waved. No one waved back.

Steve, on the other hand, has plenty of friends, but he wouldn't bleed for any of them, because he wouldn't trust them to bleed for him. In that way he's just as alone as me.

Las calles de la ciudad estaban llenas de gente, pero la extranjera no se habría sentido más sola de haber estado desiertas.

The buildings appear to be glued together, mostly small houses and apartment blocks that looked nervous. There is murky snow spread out like carpet. There is concrete, empty hat-stand trees, and gray air.

Por qué no puede oírlo el resto del mundo? —me pregunto. En pocos segundos me lo pregunto muchas veces—. Porque no le importa —me respondo al fin, y sé que estoy en lo cierto. Tengo la sensación de haber sido elegido—. Pero ¿elegido para qué? —me pregunto.» La respuesta es simple: «Para que me importe».

It kind of depressed me to think a human could be so lonely that she would comfort herself with the company of appliances that whistle, and sit alone to eat.

Vivimos aquí desde hace casi un año y nadie, absolutamente nadie, ha movido jamás un dedo para ayudarnos o hacer que nos sintamos bienvenidos. No es una queja, no me malinterpretes. No esperamos nada. La gente ya tiene suficientes problemas en su vida...

He would suffer before he'd belong, unable to show himself easily; a preference for greater hope—to find someone who would know him completely.

Max, Hans, and Rosa I cannot account for, but I know that Liesel Meminger was thinking that if the bombs ever landed on Himmel Street, not only did Max have less chance of survival than everyone else, but he would die completely alone.

Her mouth jittered. Her cold arms were folded. Tears were frozen to the book thief's face.

It's the story of one of those perpetual survivors—an expert at being left behind.

he tried not to look back as the stale bread disintegrated in his stomach. A few times, he shifted again and watched the lights become only a handful

With the curtains clamped tight, he would sleep on the floor with a cushion beneath his head, as the fire slipped away and turned to ash. In the morning, he would return to the basement. A voiceless human. The Jewish rat, back to his hole.

She was suddenly aware of how empty her feet felt inside her shoes.

In the shell-shocked kitchen, somewhere near the stove, there's an image of a lonely, overworked typewriter. It sits in a distant, near-empty room. Its keys are faded and a blank sheet waits patiently upright in the assumed position. It wavers slightly in the breeze from the window. Coffee break is nearly over. A pile of paper, the height of a human stands casually by the door. It could easily be smoking.

Sola como estaba, carecía de la disciplina necesaria para mantenerse convenientemente alejada.

Who could step in while I take a break in your stock-standard resort-style vacation destination, whether it be tropical or of the ski trip variety? The answer, of course, is nobody

There were people everywhere on the city street, but the stranger could not have been more alone if it had been empty.

It's the story of one of those perpetual survivors- an expert at being eft behind.

He was hanging from one of the rafters in a laundry up near Frau Diller's. Another human pendulum. Another clock, stopped.

she was loved, there was no recognition that the proof was in the abandonment.

Nothing changed the fact that she was a lost, skinny child in another foreign place, with more foreign people. Alone.

Caddenin her yerinde insanlar vard? ama bo? olsa, yabanc? bundan daha yaln?z olamazd?.