Quotes About Loneliness

loneliness as solitude with self-pity thrown in.

Strolling down a white-graveled walk to the cliff above the ocean, he let his eyes rove aimlessly over the expanse of sea and sand: The icy-looking whitecaps, the blinking, faraway sails of boats, the sweeping, constantly searching gulls. Desolation. Eternal, infinite. Like Dostoevski's conception of eternity, a fly circling about a privy, the few signs of life only emphasized the loneliness.

If the phone doesn't ring, it's me.

Christmas is a holiday that persecutes the lonely, the frayed, and the rejected.

my life is enough to depress the entire universe but I'm the only one living it

Kenneth was a sitting duck. In fewer than three years he would kneel alone in this very room, on the exact spot where he now stood, emptying the contents of his desk into cardboard boxes from the liquor store while his gaunt bitter wife reviled him in the Goldbergs' living room and choked the Goldbergs' big brass ashtray with with unfiltered cigarette butts, and if anyone were then to ask him for the secret of a happy life, he would answer: Stasis.

It feels weird right at this moment to not be anybody's sidekick. Hard to explain, but when I look at the moon, it seems like it's paying attention to me, instead of me paying attention to it. It's way up there now. Hi, moon, I say silently to it. Yes, I'm high, it says back. The moon has a sense of humor.

We were outsiders, waiting to become invisible. Waiting to amount to nothing.

Being left alone - and I am being left alone - isn't quite as much what I wanted as I thought. Is this how people become evil? I don't want to be.

You may think it odd that there were three men to look after one tiny station, but the people who ran the railway knew that if you left two men together in a lonely place they would quarrel, but if you left three men, two of them could always grumble to each other about the third, and then they would be quite happy.

It was bad enough not having a boyfriend for New Year's Eve. Now I had to cope with Valentine datelessness, feeling consummate social pressure from every retailer in America who stuck hearts and cupids on their windows by January second to rub it in. (Thwonk)

Perhaps if my story were put in the proper perspective it might be one of many lonely years punctuated by attempts to find an outlet for all the love I've had to give. I had my blessed children to come home to, but they couldn't fill all of the void. When I tucked them into bed I'd wonder why it had turned out like this. Believe me, it was not self-pity, ever.

I stood where they'd left me. I watched them get smaller and smaller as they went down the hallway, leaving me there without a word, not even looking back. Only I was getting smaller and smaller, being swallowed up in the suffocating emptiness of the silent house; so that by the time they came back again, I would have disappeared.

Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.

Sometimes the gulls came nearer, screaming noisily as they quarreled over small fish in the pools, and sometimes they cried mournfully far away along the beach. Then Anna felt like crying too - not actually, but quietly - inside. They made a sad, and beautiful, and long-ago sound that seemed to remind her of something lovely she had once known - and lost, and never found again. But she did not know what it was.

She knew perfectly well that things like parties and best friends and going to tea with people were fine for everyone else, because everyone else was "inside"--inside some sort of invisible magic circle. But Anna herself was outside. And so these things had nothing to do with her. It was as simple as that.

Loneliness is the alchemy that turns an adolescent into an adult. Adolescents are profoundly lonely, but believe that their pangs will be solved by finding a lover, while the adult recognizes loneliness as the defining term of the human condition.

And also, you've been stuckoo on an islandoo for a long time with only beardedoo guys who talkoo funny and bowoo down to you," Hades said, and then laughed. "That's gotta get boring after a while.

Your bed was empty today When I looked for you Why?

having a lover doesn't necessarily mean having someone to love".

of the most powerful aspects of friendship is the alleviation of loneliness. When another person indicates that they understand us, that we are no longer alone, there's an expansion of joy in our chests, a feeling like no other. All of us live in solitary confinement, waiting for a friend to appear and set us free.

And if I have hoped for more it is only the whole of loneliness swept away by understanding from "Excerpts from a Secret Prophecy

They validate perceptions that need validating, especially in adolescence--ie, under the bland, forced optimism of American life terrible forces are at work, things are not what they seem, and if you feel lonely, persecuted, a misfit, and in terror, you aren't crazy. You're right.

I cannot get into this swamp or I will never get out; and if I start crying again I'll remember that I have no one to love, and if anyone treats me like that again, I'll kill him. Only I mustn't because they'll punish me.