Quotes About Loneliness

I just... I just miss him. And hate being so alone. Does he miss me? He must

Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around.

Maybe I'll be like that man in "The Hanging Tree'. Still waiting for an answer.

Because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it.

They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love.

I've stopped talking because there's really nothing left to say and there's this piercing sort of pain where my heart is. Maybe I'm even having a heart attack, but it doesn't seem worth mentioning.

I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I'm so grateful that he's here, not dead by the stream as I'd thought. So glad I don't have to face Cato alone.

I can hear him weeping but I don't care. They probably won't even bother to question her, she's so far gone. Gone right off the deep end years ago in her Games. There's a good chance I'm headed in the same direction. Maybe I'm already going crazy and no one has the heart to tell me. I feel crazy enough.

But after several hours, I go anyway, walking in silent sock feet, so as not to awaken the ghosts.

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold.

Aprieto los ojos con fuerza e intento llegar a él a través cientos de kilómetros de distancia, enviarle mis pensamientos, hacerle saber que no está solo. Pero lo está, y yo no puedo ayudarlo. [pp. 17]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll stop. It's just...I feel so alone,' she said. 'You're not alone.' He took her hand. 'And you won't be alone in the arena; we'll be together.

So in the fading light I shut my eyes and kiss Gale to make up for all the kisses I've withheld, and because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it.

He lives alone, no wife or children, most of his waking hours drunk. I don't want to end up like that.

He's sitting alone at the kitchen table, a half-emptied bottle of white liquor in one fist, his knife in the other. Drunk as a skunk.

And I know I'm not alone. As badly as I have hurt him,

Where are you? I can still make no sense of my surroundings. Where are you?!

I avoid looking at anyone as I take tiny spoonfuls of fish soup. The saltiness reminds me of my tears.

How are you doing with the separation?

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.

So cold, so bitterly cold tonight. As if the Gamemakers have sent an infusion of frozen air across the arena, which may be exactly what they've done. I lie next to Peeta in the bag, trying to absorb every bit of his fever heat. It's strange to be so physically close to someone who's so distant. Peeta might as well be back in the Capitol, or in District 12, or on the moon right now, he'd be no harder to reach. I've never felt lonelier since the Games began

No em poden fer mal. […] Ja no queda ningú que m'estimi.

Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life, I would never be happy again. It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living.

A good clean shot to end it all. Only there's no arrow, no bullet. Is it possible he can't see me? No. Above us, on the giant screens placed around the City Circle, everyone can watch the whole thing being played out. He sees, he knows, but he doesn't follow through. Just as I didn't when he was captured. Sorry excuses for hunters and friends. Both of us. I'm on my own.