Quotes About Isolation

Es evidente que la soledad resulta peligrosa para las mentes que piensan demasiado. Cuando permanecemos solos durante mucho tiempo, poblamos de fantasmas el vacío.

Varl???m?z s?ras?nda yaÅŸad???m?z en büyük ?st?rap ebediyen yaln?z olmam?zdan geliyor ve bütün çabam?z, bütün hareketlerimiz bu yaln?zl?ktan kaçmak için.

Nuestro gran tormento en la vida proviene de que estamos solos y todos nuestros actos y esfuerzos tienden a huir de esa soledad.

July 6. I am going mad. Again all the contents of my water-bottle have been drunk during the night; or rather I have drunk it! But is it I? Is it I? Who could it be? Who? Oh! God! Am I going mad? Who will save me?

Most elÅ'ször vette észre, hogy két ember sohasem tud egymás lelkéig eljutni, gondolataik legmélyére; hogy egymás mellett járnak, néha egymásba fonódnak, de nem válnak eggyé; hogy erkölcsi lénye mindenkinek magányos marad egész életében.

Jeanne úgy érezte, lelke kinyílik, a megfoghatatlant érti most; és amint a mezÅ'n szerteszórva ott látta az apró fényeket, hirtelen megvilágosodott benne, mennyire magányos minden ember – hogy minden csak elszakítja, messzire sodorja Å'ket attól, amit szeretnek.

Seguramente la soledad es peligrosa para las inteligencias que trabajan demasiado. Necesitamos tener a nuestro alrededor otras personas que nos comuniquen sus pensamientos. La soledad prolongada puebla de visiones fantasmales el vacío.

Olyan mélységes és olyan szomorú azoknak a szobáknak a csöndje, ahol egyedül él az ember. Nemcsak a testet, a lelket is körülfogja ez a csönd; amikor egy bútor megreccsen, szíve mélyéig megremeg az ember, mert semmi zajra nem volt elkészülve a komor lakásban.

kad du žmon?s niekada negali prasiskverbti iki vienas kito sielos, iki min?i? gelmi?, kad jie gali eiti šalia vienas kito, kartais apsikabin?, bet ne susiliej?, ir kad dvasin? m?s? esm? vis? gyvenim? klaidžioja vieniša.

The spectacle is nothing more than the common language of this separation. What binds the spectators together is no more than an irreversible relation at the very center which maintains their isolation. The spectacle reunites the separate, but reunites it as separate.

The spectacle thus unites what is separate, but it unites it only in its separateness.

Imprisoned in a flattened universe bounded by the screen of the spectacle that has enthralled him, the spectator knows no one but the fictitious speakers who subject him to a one-way monologue about their commodities and the politics of their commodities. The spectacle as a whole serves as his looking glass. What he sees there are dramatizations of illusory escapes from a universal autism.

The economic system founded on isolation is a circular production of isolation. The technology is based on isolation, and the technical process isolates in turn. From the automobile to television, all the goods selected by the spectacular system are also its weapons for a constant reinforcement of the conditions of isolation of 'lonely crowds.' The spectacle constantly discovers its own assumptions more concretely.

The reigning economic system is a vicious circle of isolation.

With the generalized separation of the worker and his products, every unitary view of accomplished activity and all direct personal communication among producers are lost.

In this world, where we find ourselves, we need compassion more than anything, I think, or we are all alone.

everyone knew that all islands were worlds unto themselves, that to come to an island was to come to another world.

A day came when I should have died, and after that nothing seemed very important. So I have stayed as I am, without regret, separated from the normal human condition.

A day came when I should have died, and after than nothing seemed very important, so I stayed as I am, without regret separated from the normal human condition.

Sometimes I feel entirely disassociated from what I do. It's a malady of the modern age.

It might be high summer all about but inside me everything is fall. The lonesomeness of a sad, slow closing of days, knowing frost is nigh and wind needling through the cabin chinks is just around the bend. That's me, right now.

Maybe I'm not cold. Maybe I'm just lost. Do lonely and cold feel the same? At bottom are they the same thing?

Me sentí como en el fin del mundo, atisbando al borde de un caos insondable de noche eterna.

No me importaba el futuro; huir, bien mediante curación, inconsciencia o muerte, era cuanto me importaba.