Quotes About Loneliness

Y sin embargo, yo necesito amar a alguien, darme forzosamente a alguien.

The demented strutting of a dumb bird in the moonlight.

Loneliness is an aspect of natural human egotism.

There's a secret sickness called Lisa. Like all sicknesses, it's miserable and it comes on at night.

Is that the true, the supreme terror, to discover that I am the wizened youth whose cries no one can hear?

I no longer ask for all the loneliness of love or the tranquility of love or for the mirrors.

He] turned his back on the window, not knowing why he had gone to it, not knowing what he hoped to see, and just at that moment, when there was no one at the window any more and only a little lamp of colored glass at the back of the room flickering, it appeared.

He also discovered that he was bitter and full of resentment, that he oozed resentment, and that he might easily kill someone, anyone, if it would provide a respite from the loneliness and rain and cold of Madrid, but this was a discovery that he preferred to conceal.

Silence glimmers in the empty hallways, on the radios no one listens to anymore.

La relación entre el padre y el hijo es curiosa. El coronel, eso se nota de inmediato, ama a su hijo por encima de sus deberes como militar, un amor que naturalmente no es correspondido, aún le falta mucho al hijo para comprender al padre, para comprender la soledad, el triste destino al que todos los seres están abocados.

Everything's over, I thought. I felt rested, I'm home, I have lots to do. When I sat up in bed, though, all I did was start to cry like a fool, for no apparent reason.

The night was dark as pitch or coal. Stupid expressions, thought Pereda. European nights might be pitch-dark or coal-black, but not American nights, which are dark like a void, where there's nothing to hold on to, no shelter from the elements, just empty, storm-whipped space, above and below.

Above the street, like a hanged man, swings the spot-lit sign of the neighborhood's best restaurant, closed a long time ago.

The sickness is to sit at the base of the lighthouse staring into nothing. The lighthouse is black, the sea is black, the writer's jacket is also black.

they lost the sense of being in a hostile environment, although hostile wasn't the word, an environment whose language they refused to recognize, an environment that existed on some parallel plane where they couldn't make their presence felt

She was just a sad girl, I think, lost now among the multitudes.

Mentre i messicani mangiavano carne alla griglia e patatine fritte, Fate si mise a pensare al tatuaggio di García. Confrontò poi la solitudine di quel rancho con la solitudine della casa di sua madre. Pensò alle sue ceneri che erano ancora là. Pensò alla vicina morta. Pensò al quartiere di Barry Seaman. E tutto quello che la sua memoria andava illuminando mentre i messicani mangiavano gli parve desolato.

It was as though she was an exile from a world that saw things her way

I'm sorry, but I have this fear that someday you're going to wake up a dried-out, bitter old hag with plenty of science awards but no personal life whatsoever. And you'll sit there at night and sob about how you've wasted your life.

To recognize you are the source of your own loneliness is not a cure for it. But it is a step toward seeing that it is not inevitable, and that such a choice is not irrevocable.

Utter loneliness was planted in me then, and sent its deep roots down into me.

sometimes it only makes one more lonely to know that somewhere else, one's friends and family are well.

The loneliness that can never be filled by anyone except the one whose loss created the absence;

I felt a familiar squeezing in what I thought must be my heart. I had heard of being "heartbroken" or "heavy-hearted" but I had never known it was an actual sensation one felt when the whole world abandons you