Quotes About Isolation

Actually, watching television and surfing the Internet are really excellent practice for being dead.

Crying is right at hand in the smothering dark, closed inside someone else, when you see how everything you can ever accomplish will end up as trash.

It's so quiet this high up, the feeling you get is that you're one of those space monkeys. You do the little job you're trained to do. Pull a lever. Push a button. You don't understand any of it, and then you just die.

I disconnect the telephone to keep the outside world in it's correct place.

After long enough, everyone in the world will be you enemy.

I am not loved. I am not a beautiful soul. I am not a good-natured, giving person. I am not anybody's savior.

you ever been trapped in a world where you're everyone's worst nightmare?

And the more she could imagine this island, the less she liked the real world. The more she could imagine the people, the less she liked any real people.

Kids grow up connected to nothing these days, plugged in and living lives boosted to them from other people.

When nobody will look at you, you can stare a hole in them. Picking out all the little details you'd never stare long enough to get if they'd even just return your gaze, this, this is your revenge.

In a city this size, every year, hundreds of husbands walk away. Kids leave home. Wives escape. People disappear.

I am trash and shit and crazy to you and this whole fucking world. You don't care where I live or how I feel, or what I eat or how I feed my kids or how I pay the doctor if I get sick, and yes I am stupid ad bored and weak, but I am still your responsibility.

I'm an invisible monster. I'm incapable of loving anybody. You don't know which is worse.

This would be...a book that would be a trapdoor down into some place dark. A place only you could go, alone, when you opened the cover. Because only books have that power.

I've been choking to death for years. By now this should be easy.

If you ask me, people in hell just scream to hear their own voice and to pass time.

Suicide is very contagious.

The club is too loud to talk, so after a couple of drinks, everyone feels like the centre of attention but completely cut off from participating with anyone else. You're the corpse in an English murder mystery.

A hotel, he told me, was a big house where a lot of people lived and ate and slept, but no one knew each other. He said that described most families in the outside world.

This is when I'd cry because right now, your life comes down to nothing, and not even nothing, oblivion.

She could see it so clear. She could picture every room, inside every house. And the more she could imagine this island, the less she liked the real world. The more she could imagine the people, the less she liked any real people.

These old people. These human ruins.

Pretty much nobody is getting their emotional needs met.

My gold­fish and me, both of us are just here swim­ming in one place.