Quotes About Loneliness

"Is there anybody there?" said the Traveler,Knocking on the moonlit door;And his horse in the silence champed the grassesOf the forest's ferny floor.

Yes, after all, this by now was his customary loneliness: there was little else he desired for the present than the hospitality of the dark.

Tell them I came, and no one answered, That I kept my word," he said. Never the least stir made the listeners, Though every word he spake Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house From the one man left awake: Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup, And the sound of iron on stone, And how the silence surged softly backward, When the plunging hoofs were gone.

I was lonely enough and homesick in the years that followed. My father died while I was studying in Rome, and I could not be at his funeral. When I was at last ordained in Rome, none of my family could afford to make the trip to be with me. Yet through those years I never once wavered in my conviction that God had called me for the Russian missions; I never doubted that I would one day serve him there.

Sometimes, when a person is truly lost in this world, suffocating inside her private bubble where all she can hear is her own droning heartbeat, a touch can be enough.

They have lived in the lonely places because they are independent, not because they are like their own sheep. What they have is not a lot but it belongs to them and they have to thank no other man for it.

He had lost the bright gods, and he had not been accepted by the dark. He was in a no soul's land, and in its isolation his own soul was withdrawn, small and heavy as a stone within him, and about his evil deed. No wonder it could not take wing and make the heralding music. That was the whole of reality now, the little stone inside, and outside the cold, dark ravine and the inescapable watcher.

Most people don't die young, at least not here in America. Tragedy is unavoidable, but in this country, it doesn't usually come in the way one dies but rather in the way one lives. Failed marriages, fucked-up children, abuse of self, abuse of wife, abuse of dog, loneliness, depression, loathing, yawn, whatever.

There is nothing like the silence and loneliness of night to bring dark shadows over the brightest mind.

Some minds corrode, and grow inactive, under the loss of personal liberty; others grow morbid and irritable; but it is the nature of the poet to become tender and imaginative in the loneliness of confinement.

All now was hurry and bustle. The meeting of acquaintances-- the greetings of friends-- the consultations of men of business. I alone was solitary and idle. I had no friend to meet, no cheering to receive. I stepped upon the land of my forefathers-- but felt that I was stranger in the land.

Some minds corrode and grow inactive under the loss of personal liberty; others grow morbid and irritable; but it is the nature of the poet to become tender and imaginitive in the loneliness of confinement. He banquets upon the honey of his own thoughts, and, like the captive bird, pours forth his soul in melody.

I wasn't ready to feel as bad as I did. I'd never felt so lonely.

This world that I live in is empty and cold; the loneliness cuts me and tortures my soul.

Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self." MAY SARTON

Their isolation was communal," he wrote. "They could escape neither their loneliness nor each other.

The solitary operatic feast, the banquet for one, onanism through the ear: taking an evening out of my life to listen to Simon Boccanegra, I feel I am locked in the bathroom eating a quart of ice cream, that I have lost all my friends, that I am committing some violently antisocial act, like wearing lipstick to school.

Our culture confuses the pain of isolation with some impossible ideal of "self-sufficiency," and then celebrates it.

While we played, Meiying often sat by herself on the bench, huddled against the chill, looking at the library books on her lap, the pages glowing under the street lamp. The pages would sometimes turn in the wind, but she did not notice.

All of a sudden I didn't fit in anywhere. Not at school, not at home...and every time I turned around, another person I'd known forever felt like a stranger to me. Even I felt like a stranger to me.

Healing is impossible in loneliness; it is the opposite of loneliness. Conviviality is healing. To be healed we must come with all the other creatures to the feast of Creation. (pg.99, "The Body and the Earth")

The day he moved out was terrible – That evening she went through hell. His absence wasn't a problem But the corkscrew had gone as well.

I've been on so many blind dates I should get a free dog.

I had been in the ditch for 2 and a half min. I wondered if my friends missed me.