Quotes About Loneliness

The Christian community is not a spiritual sanatorium. The person who comes into a fellowship because he is running away from himself is misusing it for the sake of diversion, no matter how spiritual this diversion may appear. He is really not seeking community at all, but only distraction which will allow him to forget his loneliness for a brief time, the very alienation that creates the deadly isolation of man.

Many persons seek community because they are afraid of loneliness...those who take refuge in community while fleeing from themselves are misuing it to indulge in empty talk and distraction, no matter how spiritual this idle talk and distraction may appear...it is precisely such misuse of community that creates deadly isolation of human beings.

I watched too, with that sort of lonely delight--the one shadow upon it being that it is so lonely--with which all one's life one is accustomed to watch beautiful and vanishing things.

didn't know one another's names or ages or reasons for being there, and that was fine, because silence isn't the same when it's shared. Its sad and lonely sides are shunted off.

I had lost too much of the heart and all the faith needed to stay afloat in a job where every human encounter felt like an anvil strung around my neck just when I thought I was nearing the shore.

I was reminded that without him I made an impact on no one. I was seen, and perhaps occasionally heard, strictly by strangers, and always in passing. I was a much poorer man for this than I had ever thought.

davvero non ci fosse nulla, soltanto un nero macigno assomigliante a una monaca, e che i suoi occhi si fossero ingannati, un po' di stanchezza, null'altro, una stupida allucinazione. Ora sentiva perfino un'ombra di opaca amarezza, come quando le gravi ore del destino ci passano vicine senza toccarci e il loro rombo si perde lontano mentre noi rimaniamo soli, fra gorghi di foglie secche, a rimpianger la terribile ma grande occasione perduta.

In questo caso il ricordo di lui mi ritornava, allora mi fermavo e nel silenzio della notte a voce alta chiedevo: Dormi? Ma lui non rispondeva. Effettivamente dormiva, però lontano, sotto le crode, in un cimitero di montagna, e con gli anni nessuno si ricordava più di lui, nessuno gli portava fiori.

we think there are beings like ourselves around us and instead there is nothing but ice and stones speaking a strange language; we are on the point of greeting a friend but our arm falls inert, the smile dies away because we are completely alone.

What a terrible mistake, thought Drogo, perhaps everything is like that — we think there are beings like ourselves around us and instead there is nothing but ice and stones speaking a strange language; we are on the point of greeting a friend but our arm falls inert, the smile dies away because we are completely alone.

It was at this period that Drogo realised how far apart men are whatever their affection for each other, that if you suffer the pain is yours and yours alone, no one else can take upon himself the least part of it; that if you suffer it does not mean that others feel pain even though their love is great: hence the loneliness of life.

The truth is that the war helped. The war brought great sorrow and made life very very hard. Much sorrow, many tears. But it had been even harder before the war, because then everyone was alone in his sorrow.

I couldn't stand to be alone, yet I didn't want anyone to witness my dailiness, an indiscriminate collage of fragments, random encounters.

I'm an only child, and it wasn't always easy. There were a lot of games that were hard to play. Like catch. God, that was tiring.

Susan is the opposite," I said. "She's big on feelings and insights, though she has an economist's way with words. When she asks why I'm walking through an abyss of loneliness it sounds like she's reading a nutrition label.

All night long, in his cell, he burned with hatred. It did not matter what he thought, it was how he felt; and alone in the darkness of his cell, with the muttering noises of the tank around him, he felt like murdering the universe.

I don't get here much. Message me if you really want a response.

By then he would realize that the freedom he had always yearned for and never understood was beyond his or any man's reach, and that all men must yearn for it equally; a freedom from the society of mankind without its absence; a freedom from connection, from fear, from trouble, and above all from the loneliness of being alive. By then he would understand that fulfillment was only temporary, and desire the enemy of death.

Yet many times I felt terribly alone and was convinced that no one else understood. And I still think that's true. When our pain becomes intense and endures for weeks without relief, no one else really knows. I'm not sure it's worthwhile for them to know what it's like. They care. That's what I think is important.

Perhaps loneliness—it is that loneliest time of the night, the predawn darkness when the worst dreams come, the sunrise seems far off, and the creatures that inhabit both the real world and the darker edges of the unconscious prowl with the impunity of predators who know that their prey is helpless and alone.

Nothing is emptier than an empty house. The vacant kitchen chair, the imprint on a sofa cushion, the pillow unsplayed with hair, absent of scent. An unspoken thought, an unshared laugh, the silence of no footsteps, no sighs, no breaths.

They shouldn't look out the window when they hear shit," Ron Minelli says. "But that was probably her whole life. She probably spent her whole day looking out the window.

it. A junkie goes into the alley alone with the disease, it's the disease that walks out.

We eat pancakes to escape loneliness, yet within moments we want nothing more than our freedom from ever having so much as thought about pancakes.