Quotes About Isolation

Donde quiera que estuviera sentada estaría sentada bajo la misma campana de cristal, agitándome en mi propio aire viciado

I feigned sleep until my mother left for school, but even my eyelids didn't shut out the light. They hung the raw, red screen of their tiny vessels in front of me like a wound. I crawled between the mattress and the padded bedstead and let the mattress fall across me like a tombstone. It felt dark and safe under there, but the mattress was not heavy enough. It needed about a ton more weight to make me sleep.

It was like the first time I saw a cadaver. For weeks afterward, the cadaver's head--or what there was left of it--floated up behind my eggs and bacon at breakfast... and pretty soon I felt as though I were carrying that cadaver's head around with me on a string, like some black, noseless balloon stinking of vinegar.

A bad dream. To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream. A bad dream. I remembered everything.

Me sentía embotada y pesada y llena de sueños destruidos.

What was there about us, in Belize [asylum], so different from the girls playing bridge and gossiping and studying in college to which I would return? Those girls, too, sat under bell jars of a sort.

Being with Jody and Mark and Cal was beginning to weigh on my nerves, like a dull wooden block on the strings of a piano. I was afraid that at any moment my control would snap, and I would start babbling about how I couldn't read and couldn't write and how I must be just about the only person who had stayed awake for a solid month without dropping dead of exhaustion.

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream

The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind as coolly as a tree or a flower.

Acontece que eu não estava conduzindo nada, nem a mim mesma. Eu só pulava do meu hotel para o trabalho e para as festas, e das festas para o hotel e então de volta ao trabalho, como um bonde entorpecido. Imagino que eu deveria estar entusiasmada como a maioria das outras garotas, mas eu não conseguia me comover com nada. (Me sentia muito calma e muito vazia, do jeito que o olho de um tornado deve se sentir, movendo-se pacatamente em meio ao turbilhão que o rodeia.)

Não teria feito a menor diferença se ela tivesse me dado uma passagem para Europa ou um cruzeiro ao redor do mundo, porque onde quer que eu estivesse - fosse o convés de um navio, um café parisiense ou Bangcoc -, estaria sempre sob a mesma redoma de vidro, sendo lentamente cozida em meu próprio ar viciado.

Something is gone. My sleeping capsule, my red and blue zeppelin Drops me from a terrible altitude. Carapace smashed, I spread to the beaks of birds.

If Mrs. Guinea had given me a ticket to Europe, or a round-the-world cruise, it wouldn't have made one scrap of difference to me, because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street cafe in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.

Cisza podzia?a?a na mnie przygn?biaj?co. Nie ta na zewn?trz, ale ta, co by?a we mnie samej.

I knew perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but I couldn't hear a thing. The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for all the good it did me.

I need not to be more with others, but to be more and more deeply, richly alone. Recreating worlds.

Then he would lean back in his chair and match the tips of his fingers together in a little steeple and tell me why I couldn't sleep and why I couldn't read and why I couldn't eat and why everything everyone did seem so silly, because they only died in the end.

I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.)

I didn't want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week.

From another, distanced mind, I saw myself sitting on the breezeway, surrounded by two white clapboard walls, a mock orange bush and a clump of birches and a box hedge, small as a doll in a doll's house.

Kendimi koÅŸu yolu olmayan bir dünyada yaÅŸayan bir yar?? at? gibi hissediyordum.

I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

To ticho mÄ› deprimovalo. PÃ…â"¢itom to nebylo ticho normálního ticha. Bylo to moje vlastní ticho.

I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad infinitely desolate avenue.