Quotes About Isolation

crawled like a blind slug into the web

gratuitous masturbation of the psyche.

A man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make-believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.

I was still tough but it wasn't the same. I had to withdraw. I watched people from afar, it was like a stage play. Only they were on stage and I was an audience of one.

Learn that there will be hours, days and months ahead of feeling absolutely terrible and nothing can change that; neither new girlfriends, health professionals, changes of diet, dope, humility, or God.

I sat back down and poured a glass of wine. I left my door open. The moonlight came in with the sounds of the city: juke boxes, automobiles, curses, dogs barking, radios . . . We were all in it together. We were all in one big shit pot together. There was no escape. We were all going to be flushed away.

It made me feel good to write about the Baron. A man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make- believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.

another hot summer night as I sit here and play at being a writer again. and the worst thing of course is that the words will never truly break through for any of us. some nights I have taken the sheet out of the typer and held it over the cigarette lighter, flicked it and waited for the result.

I see men assassinated around me every day. I walk through rooms of the dead, streets of the dead, cities of the dead: men without eyes, men without voices; men with manufactured feelings and standard reactions; men with newspaper brains, television souls and high school ideals.

my greatest problem was stamps, envelopes, paper and wine, with the world on the edge of World War II.

Nuk ishte dita ime. As java ime. As muaji im. As viti im. As jeta ime, dreqi e marrtë..!

I was like a turd that drew flies instead of like a flower that butterflies and bees desired. I wanted to live alone,I felt best being alone, cleaner,,

Lawyers, doctors, plumbers, they made all the money. Writers? Writers starved. Writers suicided. Writers went mad.

No life anywhere, no life in this town or this place or in this weary existence

we forget the terror of one person aching in one room alone unkissed untouched cut off watering a plant alone without a telephone that would never ring anyway.

I am not like other people other people are like other people. they are all alike: joining grouping huddling they are both gleeful and content and i am burning in hell. my heart is a thousand years old i am not like other people.

take a writer away from his typewriter and all you have left is the sickness which started him typing in the beginning.

We all sat there and looked at each other and didn't look at each other. We chewed gum, drank coffee, went into restrooms, urinated, slept. We sat on the hard benches and smoked cigarettes we didn't want to smoke. We looked at each other and didn't like what we saw.

I look like a man in a death camp. I am. still, I'm lucky: I feat on solitude, I will never miss the crowd.

I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go. Suicide? Jesus Christ, just more work. I felt like sleeping for five years but they wouldn't let me.

I was 50 years old and hadn't been to bed with a woman for four years. I had no women friends. I looked at them as I passed them on the streets or wherever I saw them, but I looked at them without yearning and with a sense of futility. I masturbated regularly, but the idea of having a relationship with a woman- even on non-sexual terms-was beyond my imagination.

What I wanted was a cave in Colorado with three-years' worth of foodstuffs and drink. I'd wipe my ass with sand. Anything, anything to stop drowning in this dull, trivial and cowardly existence.

it's necessary for me sometimes just to be alone and quiet and doing nothing. - my telephone

But it's only when a man gets to the point of a gun in his mouth that he can see the whole world inside of his head. Anything else is conjecture, conjecture and bullshit and pamphlets.