Quotes About Loneliness

But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one.

Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! for it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort?

I am no longer young, and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken. The shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and I would be alone with my thoughts when I may

enterrât les suicidés

there was a dread loneliness in the place which chilled my heart and made my nerves tremble.

Umar?m hata yapmam???md?r; çünkü uyku benimle flört etmeye baÅŸlad???nda içimde yeni bir korku doÄŸuyor.

Ans then there was silence, deep awful silence, which chilled me.

Little girl, your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a lover; it's more unselfish anyhow. My dear, I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom Come.

The clock was striking one as I was in the Crescent, and there was not a soul in sight.

There was a coldness and loneliness in the world, and I felt that I had lost something without getting anything in return...

Hello, cell. How are you? Still dank and dirty? Me? I've taken up a new habit: talking to my cell. It's like talking to myself but slightly more pathetic.

He was alone and shackled by his neck to the wall. And he had no hope. How did a man live without hope? [You hope is in Jesus Christ. Pray to your Father in that name and he will ease your pain or shorten it]. That's what Tyndale had said in his last letter. And that's what John tried to do, though he could not kneel or even bow his head from his fixed position on the wall. (p. 365)

The fact is, there's a difference between being alone and being lonely; I may not of been completely alone in life, but I was definitely lonely.

even the ugliest place in the world can be wonderful if you're there with good friends—just like the most fabulous destination on earth is pretty boring when you're all alone.

And though the coldness I have always felt leaves me, the numbness doesn't and probably never will. this relationship will probably lead to nothing... this didn't change anything. I imagine her smelling clean, like tea...

I kept staring into the blackness of the woods, drawn into the darkness as I always had been. I suddenly realized how alone I was. (But this is how you travel, the wind whispered back, this is how you've always lived.)

Nothing. Nothing makes me happy. I like nothing, I tell her.

There is music playing somewhere but I can't hear it.

A vast and abandoned world laid out in anonymous grids and quadrants, a view that confirmed you were much more alone than you thought you were, a view that inspired the flickering thoughts of suicide.

While walking back to the highway I stop, choke back a sob, my throat tightens. I just want to... Facing the skyline, through all the baby talk, I murmur, keep the game going. As I stand, frozen in position, an old woman emerges behind a Threepenny Opera poster at a deserted bus stop and she's homeless and begging, hobbling over, her face covered with sores that look like bugs, holding out a shaking red hand. Oh will you please go away? I sigh. She tells me to get a haircut.

estaba tan por encima de la ciudad que tenías la impresión de contemplar un mundo enorme y abandonado que se extendía en cuadrículas anónimas, una vista que confirmaba que estabas mucho más solo de lo que creías.

While taking a piss in the men's room, I stare into a thin, web-like crack above the urinal's handle and think to myself that if I were to disappear into that crack, say somehow miniaturize and slip into it, the odds are good that no one would notice I was gone. No … one … would … care.

While taking a piss in the men's room, I stare into a thin, web-like crack above the urinal's handle and think to myself that if I were to disappear into that crack, say somehow miniaturize and slip into it, the odds are good that no one would notice I was gone. No … one … would … care. In fact some, if they noticed my absence, might feel an odd, indefinable sense of relief.

And though the coldness I have always felt leaves me, the numbness doesn't and probably never will. This relationship will probably lead to nothing...this didn't change anything.