Quotes About Isolation

A more pressing problem for me is that I have never been able to love anyone seriously. I have never felt unconditional love for anyone since the day I was born, never felt that I could give myself completely to that one person. Never once.

Outside was pitch black. So black I felt morning might never arrive, not for all eternity.

For her, loneliness is something you have others remove for you. And once it's gone, everything's okay. Doesn't go any further. I can't live that way.

I'm free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can't really understand what it means. All I know is I'm totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who's lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free?

The point is, it didn't even look like my face. It was the face of any twenty-four-year-old guy who might have been sitting across the way on the commuter train. My face, my self, what would they mean to anybody? Just another stiff. So this self of mine passes some other's self on the street – what do weh ave to say to each other? Hey there! Hi ya!That's about it. Nobody raises a hand. No one turns around to take another look.

Un buen día, de repente, te conviertes en un hombre sin mujer. Ese día sobreviene de repente, sin mediar el menor indicio o aviso, sin corazonadas ni presentimientos, sin llamar a la puerta y sin carraspeos. Al doblar la esquina, te das cuenta de que ya estás allí. Y no puedes dar marcha atrás. Una vez que doblas la esquina, se convierte en tu único mundo. En ese mundo pasan a decir que eres uno de esos hombres sin mujeres. En un plural gélido.

The further we traveled in the darkness, the more I began to feel estranged from my body. I couldn't see it, and after a while, you start to think the body is nothing but a hypothetical construct.

Two people can sleep in the same bed and still be alone when they close their eyes, if you know what I mean.

Darkness had spread over my skin like ink.

It was nothing but a hole, a mouth open wide. You could lean over the edge and peer down to see nothing. All I knew about the well was its frightening depth. It was deep beyond measuring, and crammed full of darkness, as if all the world's darkness had been boiled down to their ultimate density.

I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair, rubbed on body lotion, cleaned my ears. Then to the kitchen to heat up the last of the coffee. Only to discover: no one sitting at the opposite side of the table. Staring at that chair where no one sat, I felt like a tiny child in a De Chirico painting, left behind all alone in a foreign country.

The longer you stay in here , the more you get to thinking that things are normal.

I can't afford to take responsibilities for others' lives. It's all I can do to bear the weight of my own life and my own loneliness

And my inability to share this anger with anybody in the lobby aroused in me a profound sense of isolation. - Toru Okada

The two of us are linked together by the heavy bonds of silence that pass through the wall seperating our two worlds. We need each other more than anything, I feel without a doubt.

Onsuz yaln?zl?k duyuyordum, ama yaln?zl?k duyabilmem bile bana bir avuntu gibi geliyordu. Yaln?zl?k o denli de kötü bir duygu deÄŸildi. Küçük kuÅŸlar uçup gittikten sonra akmeÅŸenin sesizliÄŸi gibi bir ÅŸeydi.

Where Watanabe and I are alike is we don't give a damn if nobody understands us… That's what makes us different from everybody else. They're all worried about whether the people around them understand them. But not me, and not Watanabe. We just don't give a damn. Self and others are separate.

But my one-day absence was probably not having an effect on anybody. Not one human being had noticed that I was gone, likely. I could disappear from the face of the earth, and the world would go on moving without the slightest twinge. Things were tremendously complicated, to be sure, but one thing was clear: no one needed me.

All I know is I'm totally alone. All alone i n an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who's lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free? I don't know, and I give up thinking about it.

It was as good as sealing yourself into a dungeon. Walled in, with nowhere to go but your own doom.

We heard no other sounds. We met no other people. We saw only two bright red birds leap startled from the center of the meadow and dart into the woods.

Die Leute schauen vorbei, nehmen ein paar Drinks, hören sich die Musik an, unterhalten sich und gehen dann nach Hause. Sie sind bereit, für ein paar Drinks bis hier hinauszufahren und dann noch eine Menge Geld auszugeben – und weißt du, warum? Weil jeder das gleiche sucht: einen imaginären Ort, sein eigenes Luftschloss, und darin seinen ganz besonderen privaten Winkel.

What I felt then was a deep terror. And a kind of hopelessness, a feeling that I could never run away from this thing, no matter how far I went. And this creature, this thing doesn't give a damn that I'm me or you're you. In its presence, all human beings lose their names and their faces. We all turn into signs, into numbers.

I've built a wall around me, never letting anybody inside and trying not to venture outside myself. Who could like somebody like that?