Quotes About Loneliness

It would be impossible to estimate how much time and energy we invest in trying to fix, change and deny our emotions - especially the ones that shake us at our very core, like hurt, jealousy, loneliness, shame, rage and grief.

There is something about the name Berlin that evokes an image of men in hats and long coats standing under streetlamps on rainy nights.

I used to feel that I spent too much of my time in my pajamas doing nothing, and I'd think 'in the time that I don't spend writing, I could raise a family of five.' In a lot of ways, being a writer is lonely and alienating.

We can all fight against loneliness by engaging in random acts of kindness.

If I gain support, the support doesn't seem to mean anything. It's not like anyone really cares about me.

I didn't make a lot of friends in high school. It's a cruel time, and I was very geeky.

You get people who come to London, sever links with where they come from, and then when they need people, there's nobody there. To feel like you can't go back home would be a horribly sad place to be, as is mistaking fame for genuine love and affection.

I make a genuine distinction between loneliness and aloneness. I know what each is like. There are times I'm lonely. But there are also many times when I need to be alone, when I don't want the feeling of someone else in the house other than the cats.

The image of a bedsheet ghost standing all alone in an empty house was something I was obsessed with. I really wanted to make a film about that image, and I was waiting for the right story to come along. When it did, I did my best to honor that image.

If you look like a ghost, you feel like a ghost.

I wanted to be a comedian. And I did that so much in high school, I couldn't get a girlfriend.

My dedication to my music has driven everyone away. I've had girlfriends, but I always end up on my own. I don't particularly like it, but I don't see a way 'round it.

Girl-wise, I never got the girl. Because of my mother and our economy, I never had clothes. And I never - like I said - dated. I didn't date at all. I was never a guy who had girlfriends.

Of course I'd like someone in my life. And of course, when I go home in the evening, I wish there was someone waiting for me. But very honestly, I don't have time to be lonely. My work fills up most of my day, and when I get home, I just want to sleep.

I think everyone is lonely whether you are in a good marriage or a bad marriage somewhere down the line you become lonely, and to get rid of that loneliness you have to try really hard.

The moon's a dead rock, but I still like the word, so black in its white space. […] what can we say to the moon except You again? You again.

Each time I reach outside my skin/I just get lonesome for what's within.

The shortest horror story: The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door.

When Godric banished Fairweather and Tune, they all three bled for it, and part of Godric snaked off too, nevermore to come again. And it's Godric's flesh that Ailred's cough cleaves to like an axe. And when brave Mouse went down off Wales, he bore to the bottom the cut of Godric's sharp farewell. And when Gillian vanished in a Dover wood, she took with her all but the husk of Godric's joy.

In winter when the snow and ice were fierce, we shook beneath our different roofs alone, and that's what Hell is like, I think. It's cold and shame and shaking. And worst of all, it's loneliness.

She stands — she sits — she staggers — she falls — she groans — she dies — and there are none of her children or grandchildren present, to wipe from her wrinkled brow the cold sweat of death, or to place beneath the sod her fallen remains.

There is a sweet little horror story that is only two sentences long: 'The last man on Earth sat along in a room. There was a knock at the door…' Two sentences and an ellipsis of three dots. The horror, of course, isn't in the story at all; it's in the ellipsis, the implication: what knocked at the door. Faced with the unknown, the human mind supplies something vaguely horrible.

I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best.

The lonely one offers his hand too quickly to whomever he encounters.