Quotes About Loneliness

He glanced down at his wrist-watch, felt a pang of loneliness crease across his heart. For a single second, he wondered what time it was back home in Vermont, and he had trouble remembering whether it was earlier or later. Then he dismissed this unfair thought when he realized that if he did not hurry, he would be late for the beginning of that morning's proceedings.

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forgetWhat thou among the leaves hast never known,The weariness, the fever, and the fretHere, where men sit and hear each other groan;Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,Where youth grows pale, and specter-thin, and dies;Where but to think is to be full of sorrowAnd leaden-eyed despairs.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bellTo toll me back from thee to my sole self!

O, what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,Alone and palely loitering?The sedge has withered from the lake,And no birds sing!

I mingle with my peers or no one, and since I have no peers, I mingle with no one.

I felt that I was not, never had been and never would be a living part of this overpoweringly solid and deeply meaningful world around me.

allope n. a mysterious aura of loneliness you feel in certain places, the palpable weight of all the lonely people secretly holed up in their houses and apartments, with a flickering blue glow cast up on their walls-so many of whom might just want someone to talk to, or want to feel needed, and could be that for each other of only they could somehow connect.

It's where you are in your imagination That's important, for the life of simply staying where you are Is a shadow's life, that leaves you by yourself, alone and scared. Why can't we just move on? The light up ahead is soft And seems to beckon us, glowing with a promise of beginning Once again, as if there were still time.

But, then, he was the youngest child of four, stranded at the far side of a large family like a poorly used preposition at the end of a sentence.

It's part of a writer's profession, as it's part of a spy's profession, to prey on the community to which he's attached, to take away information - often in secret - and to translate that into intelligence for his masters, whether it's his readership or his spy masters. And I think that both professions are perhaps rather lonely.

When I was your age, art was a lonely thing: no galleries, no collecting, no critics, no money. We didn't have mentors. We didn't have parents. We were alone. But it was a great time, because we had nothing to lose and a vision to gain.

There's nothing lonelier than grief. Sometimes I wanted to cry out to them all in the middle of History "Please please look at me help me can't you see how unhappy I am?" But what would have happened? They would have gathered round making soothing noises helping me out of the room maybe offering me tissues...and none of that would touch the deep dark ocean that circled silently inside. They could not see it touch it stop it. I didn't know any way to do that.

We're all so curiously alone, but it's important to keep making signals through the glass

I feel like I'm dropping such a long way down again." "I seem to be dropping into a cold dark wet place, where no one's been before and noone can every follow. There's no future there; just a past that sometimes fools you into thinking it's the future. It's the most alone place you can ever be and, when you go there, you not only cease to exist in real life, you also cease to exist in their consciousness and in their memories.

I must go down to the sea...to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by......

My life feels good—and better all the time—but as good as it gets, sometimes it's hard to forget those tremendous victories…. That's when I have to remind myself that I really had no one to share those victories with. That's when I remember how cold the top of the mountain was.

They'd listen silenty, with grave faces: but once they'd turn to each other they'd smile cruelly. He couldn't have it both ways. He'd put himself outside and outside they'd make him stay. Neither brutality nor complaining could force a way in.

and there were people wandering the town who had no people to meet, who did not want to be alone and were not noticed.

I wondered if Ivan was asleep. It was terrible to think that he was in this city, possibly very nearby, but I couldn't see him or talk to him because he didn't love me. I couldn't be with him for one minute, not even for the weird leftover hours that nobody else wanted, like from one to three a.m. on a Wednesday.

At two-thirty I was wide awake. I knew there was no way I would fall back asleep, not for hours. I put on sweatpants and went downstairs to the computer room. The only light came from the Coke machine and the "Flying Through Space" screensaver. I put six dimes in the machine and a can tumbled out like a body falling down the stairs.

If you want to destroy something in this life, be it acne, a blemish or the human soul, all you need to do is to surround it with thick walls. It will dry up inside.

Being responsible for her own happiness, she has realized, is a lonely proposition.

She hangs up just as a text from Sofia comes in. Are you on the phone with Isaac? A chill rolls up Caroline's spine. The loneliest place in the world, she realizes, is between two other people.

but she has come to the chilling conclusion that we are all alone in our bodies. Irrefutably, immutably alone.