Quotes About Loneliness

How much there is in art that is beautiful, if only one can remember what one has seen, one is never empty or truly lonely, and never alone. -Vincent Van Gogh

How much there is in art that is beautiful, if only one can remember what one has seen, one is never empty or truly lonely, and never alone.

It seemed that acquiring a house was not the same thing as acquiring a home. And connected to home was a question I swatted away every time it landed too near me. Who else was living with me in the grand old house with the pomegranate tree? Was I alone with the melancholy fountain for company? No. There was definitely someone else there with me, perhaps even cooling their feet in that fountain. Who was this person? A phantom.

The unloved watch the loved perform the small rituals of their loving.

She is drinking peach tea in the plaza and she is too hot because her blue and black checked shirt is for winter not for summer in Andalucía. I think she thinks she's a cowboy in her work shirt, always alone with no one to look at the mountain horizon at night and say my god those stars.

I am upset today, Lapinski, because my friend is dying... I spread my loneliness out like a fan in front of you. He is my comrade, Lapinski. Holding on to the hands of the clock with his fingertips. For me. We hang on for each other.

Now he was fifty-six and the thought of getting to know a woman all over again filled him with a panic-stricken desolation.

When the coach set me down before that avenue of trees – straight and stern with cicadas screaming in the tall branches – I saw no welcome for a starved brat missing her mama.

She is leaving him, not all at once, which would be painful enough, but in a wrenching succession of separations. One moment she is here, and then she is gone again, and each journey takes her a little farther from his reach. He cannot follow her, and he wonders where she goes when she leaves.

a lonely old man.

Indians!" Sitting Bull shouted. "There are no Indians left but me!

I don't want to be alone," she whispered. "You won't be, through any of this." "It feels very alone. Death is like a cloud coming near that shadows and blocks the color from life." "I'll be here, Rae. Whatever you need. And God promised He would never leave you. He meant it. For the rest of eternity you will never be alone.

Once you get past the fearsome exterior, all inner monsters are weak, frightened, and alone. You long ago rejected this part of yourself, therefore it appears to you as a child of your own making that wants to be back with you. Now ask yourself, why did it turn into a monster?

In the apprehension of art there can be a loneliness, as there so often is in its creation. This breaching of loneliness may be the secret of what an audience is, or at least one of its secrets.

And this that you call solitude is in fact a big crowd.

The world is a navy in an empty ocean.

Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories.

What could be lonelier than trying to communicate?

What else can you do?" Gram asked "Live without love? Keep a houseful of cats? Pah! What kind of life is that? How lonely an existence. Love's not always easy, but it's worth it. You'll never find happiness if you let fear stand in the way of what you truly desire

I felt that when I'd wished to die, I was being who I really was, sans interference from the world or from the priorities and hopes that had polluted me through other people's minor needs for me or from the books I read incessantly. It was like I'd found myself, and I was someone who had never had the things I really wanted, plainly never would, and whom no one would fully comprehend.

I want to love someone so selflessly that he would never even think about going away. I suppose that's what most people want. In fact, that's probably why we don't kill one another all the time. Everyone's just a little too lonely to risk it.

This change often presents a major challenge because the person may experience loneliness and the type of marginalization that people of color have constantly experienced. For many White Americans, the challenge and isolation may be too much, and they will return to their old ways allowing denial and self-deception to reestablish themselves.

So now you're on the run,' Warrick said wistfully. 'Travelling the Dark Highway, a lone wolf. With your friend, who is another wolf. Two lone wolves. Two wolves, really. Not really alone. Two wolves in a car. Travelling. One of them naked and bloody. The other with her ass hanging out.

isolation without end was a dangerous thing.