Quotes About Loneliness

It was sad and fierce all at once, alive with a lonely purity.

There is a loneliness that must be particular to monsters, I think, the feeling that each is the only child of a species. And now that loneliness was over.

A single note, held in an amber suspension of time, like a charcoal drawing of Icarus falling. It was sad and fierce all at once, alive with a lonely purity. It went on and on, until my own lungs were burning. "What bird are you calling?" I asked finally, when I couldn't stand it any longer. The Bird Man stopped whistling. He grinned, so that I could see all his pebbly teeth. "You.

Do you ever feel like you're not even friends with sme of your friends?

we were sucked into the sea of gyrating bodies like socks into a washing machine's agitator. Seconds later, bruised and sweaty and alone, I was spit out at the other end.

Who will sit on the porch with him then?

Vad jag vet är, att av sjuka föräldrar och sjuka lärare fostras ännu sjukare barn, tills det sjuka har blivit norm och det friska en skräckbild. Av ensamma föds ännu ensammare, av rädda ännu räddare (s. 144)

That the zeal for God's honor is also a dangerous passion, that the Christian must bring with him the courage to swim against the tide instead of with it... accept a good deal of loneliness, will perhaps be nowhere so clear and palpable as in the church, where he would so much like things to be different. Yet he cannot and he will not refuse to take this risk and pay this price... he belongs where the reformation of the church is underway or will again be underway.

The world is a prison in which solitary confinement is preferable.

I know that traditionally, monsters hang around empty places for no apparent reason—and

And you tempt me into your House of Love-- I, who have come from far Through wintry forest and homeless heath, Friend of the wind and star? Ah, I fear the warmth of the ingleside And the depths of your dear caress Will make me forget what I learned out there In the stubble and loneliness!

Ursula craved solitude but she hated loneliness, a conundrum that she couldn't even begin to solve.

I have been loved, Edward told the stars. So? said the stars. What difference does that make when you are all alone now?

The pain of being unloved was pushed off to a distance where it could not touch. I became like those flat shining beetles that live in the heart of a rotten log, a creature of no dimension, able to disappear into the narrowest of cracks.

knew that this was the world I was in now, a vile dirty place where I was alone, alone, alone.

That was a place a person had to travel through alone. I met there a cold indifferent truth: that every person -- even a loved person, and I was not loved -- was alone. On the whole globe, there was no one but myself, and I was shaken and torn down to the merest speck of being.

The creature that was me had crept away and left nothing more than the shell of a woman curled up on the bunk.

Among all the wisdom and facts I learned from Giannon, I also learned the loneliness of incarnation, in which there is inevitably a separation of souls because of the uniqueness of our faces and our experiences. And I learned also the moments when the current of my life joins the current of another life, and I can glimpse for a moment the one flowing body of water we all compose.

Isn't it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for - I don't know what exactly, but it's something that you don't mind so much not having at other times.

There is a pale, penetrating loneliness chiselled into every statue. A kind of loneliness made living. It haunts every rock and stone, every sinew of every room. A whispering, blistery loneliness. In a breath's moment, I swear I can hear voices, and at the exact same time, all I can hear is the deafening sound of utter nothingness.

All of a sudden to get all of this attention, and to be away from home and working all the time was hard. I was on planes all the time. I didn't see my friends. I cried a lot. It was quite terrifying.

She's going to keep up her public facade of stoicism and generosity and getting on with thungs. She knows she can do it, she can do the stiff upper lip thing. I will survive. But behind closed doors the going is rough. It's when she is alone that it hits her. And she is often alone, too often, she things no one should have to be alone as much as she is. It should have been me: her mind is a morass of old songs now, Errol Brown started it. It should have been me.

Sometimes Emily was so lonely that it was like being invisible.

He looked at the sky once more. Men had gone out there, he thought in wonder, and couldn't think why. Singly and in small groups they had gone into strange lands, across wide seas, had climbed mountains where no human foot had ever trod. And he couldn't think why they had done these things. What impulse had driven them from their own kind to perish alone, or among strangers.