Quotes About Loneliness

The stones plunked dismally, sinking one after the other.

The likelihood of meeting anyone who wouldn't make him feel even lonelier seemed increasingly remote. Life was a dwindling process now, not a building proposition. He couldn't imagine being with someone new, opening up, feeling appreciated and understood, without having to explain his dubious non sequiturs and increasingly arcane or redundant frame of reference.

and we can be the players only when we understand loneliness and go beyond it. … because beyond it lies the real treasure. —J. Krishnamurti

Banks felt more alone and further away for having just talked to Sophia than he had before her call. But it was always like that - the telephone might bring you together for a few moments, but there's nothing like it for emphasising distance.

But would she ever recover fully inside? How would she handle being alone in the house? Would she ever again be able to hear someone walking up the garden path without that twinge of fear and panic? He didn't know. The psyche regenerates itself, too, sometimes. We're often a damn sight more resilient than we'd imagine.

Nu er troldommen hævet i zonerne for den tidlige stivnen. Fordi nogen går bagved, bliver ensomhed til frihed. De områder, der før på grund af den tidligt manglende kærlighed var forurenede, bliver nu tilgængelige. Selv når der ikke mere går en terapeut bagved, står erfaringen tilbage: 'Det går; jeg går. Jeg ved nu, hvad jeg skal gøre for at leve.

Den gamle kærlighed - at holde og blive holdt om, at sikre og være sikret, kærligheden pga. svaghed og fortvivlelse - har det lagt bag sig. Det lever i en kærlighed, der omfatter kærlighedsfjernhed og uelskethed, en kærlighed, der omfatter en ensomhed, som både er nøgtern og glødende, en kærlighed, der ikke vil noget bestemt og derfor er åben og til rådighed, en kærlighed, det heler kærlighedssår, idet den også elsker disse.

He knows no physics or engineering to make the world real to him… no paintings to show him how others have enjoyed it… no music except television jingles… no history except tales from a desperate mother… no friends to give him a joke or make him know himself more moderately. He's a modern citizen for whom society doesn't exist.

Oh, you monster!No one exists but you, do they? You and your music!

Es gibt mir das Gefühl, nicht allein zu sein, wenn ich nachts aufwache." "Du bist nicht allein." "Nein", sagte Agnes, "jetzt nicht.

Everyone's got intimacy issues these days, in case you hadn't noticed." He must have; the population had been dropping for decades.

You know what happens when you keep a dog locked away from every living thing, except you visit once a day and kick the shit out of him?" Perreault laughed nervously. "Someone actually tried that?" "What happens is, the dog's a social animal, and it gets so lonely it actually looks forward to the shit-kicking. It asks to be kicked. It begs.

Finally, communication seems to work wonders during a trip alone. Some sailors find ways to talk to inanimate objects assign them a personality and make them members of the crew. It is a great way to cope with loneliness and express your emotions.

Walking, working, barely breathing My thoughts, far away Heart aching, mind racing Sleep does not come easily, nor last long....

?ntihar intihard?r ve ba?ka bir ?ey de?ildir. ?ntihar ediyorum. Kendi kendimden nefretimin çerçeveledi?i ve çirkinle?tirdi?i bir dünyada yaln?z?m.

Do you know what it's like going through life better than everybody? It's hard.

I never resented you. What I resented was Mom not choosing to spend any of her free time with me. I only wanted to be left alone until I was, if that makes any sense.

I missed the sad things about growing old, when women no longer look at you, when wine makes you weep instead of laugh and makes your mouth sour with the taste of weakness, and every day is one day nearer death.

No wonder Van Gogh cut his ear off, I thought; there's nothing else to do in a place like this but cut your ear off.

Depression hangs over me as if I were Iceland.

I seem to walk on a transparent surface and see beneath me all the bones and wrecks and tentacles that will eventually claim me: in other words, old age, incapacity, loneliness, death of others & myself...

How strange it is For the heart to be loveless, and as cold as these.

I find you in these tears, few, useless and here at last. Don't come back.

It struck her as odd and faintly sinister, this lonely city creeping north in silence.