Quotes About Loneliness

For four years he lived in Brooklyn, and four years in Brooklyn are a geologic age -- a single stratum of grey time. They were years of poverty, of desperation, of loneliness unutterable. All about him were the poor, the outcast, the neglected and forsaken people of America, and he was one of them. But life is strong, and year after year it went on around him in all its manifold complexity, rich with its unnoticed and unrecorded little happenings.

Where shall the weary rest? When shall the lonely of heart come home? What doors are open for the wanderer? And which of us shall find his father, know his face, and in what place, and in what time, and in what land? Where? Where the weary of heart can abide for ever, where the weary of wandering can find peace, where the tumult, the fever, and the fret shall be for ever stilled.

I'm afraid of everything. Fear of being alone, fear of being hurt, fear of being made a fool of, fear of failure... Still, I think all my fears bleed from one big one...

Get away from meeeee! Edgar -Frankiewinnie

Alone and rejected, Mummy Boy wept, then went to the cabinet where the snack food was kept.

Maybe somewhere on the Nostromo there had been a similar scene, with Dallas hanging there, stuck in place like the victim in a massive spider's dense webbing.

She had already contacted her Peacemaker to ensure that everything there was as it should be. Ironholgs had spat and buzzed as if annoyed at being disturbed, but all was well. She yearned to be back in the ship, alone.

He wanted to know her. Intimate secrets: Why poetry? Why so sad? Why that grayness in her eyes? Why so alone? Not lonely, just alone—riding her bike across campus or sitting off by herself in the cafeteria—even dancing, she danced alone—and it was the aloneness that filled him with love

Psychology—that was one thing I knew. You don't try to scare people in broad daylight. You wait. Because the darkness squeezes you inside yourself, you get cut off from the outside world, the imagination takes over. That's basic psychology. I'd pulled enough night guard to know how the fear factor gets multiplied as you sit there hour after hour, nobody to talk to, nothing to do but stare into the big black hole at the center of your own sorry soul

Well, right now,' she said, 'I'm not dead. But when I am, it's like... I don't know, I guess it's like being inside a book that nobody's reading.' 'A book?' I said. 'An old one. It's up on a library shelf, so you're safe and everything, but the book hasn't been checked out for a long, long time. All you can do is wait. Just hope somebody'll ick it up and start reading.

And if the air is chilly she feels it - in fact, if you put your hand on her arm you would know she still remembers how touching changed the weather, how a hand skimming the wrist was once a window opening onto a better season where people did better things than be lonely, where the wind was a river of candlelight pushing the blue silhouettes of trees.

And I wish I could say I stayed up late thinking about him but the truth is I was only awake a little while. I was so tired the swag felt like a sponge that soaked me up. I went to sleep like someone disappearing from the earth, like rain sopped into dust.

Say I hit your number, called you up, you'd wonder what the fuck, every one of youse, and your mouth'd go dry. Maybe you're just some stranger I pocket-dialled. Or one of them shitheads from school I could look for. Any of youse heard my voice now you'd think it was weather. Or a bird screaming. You'd be sweating sand. Like I'm the end of the world.

And in that single crackle of tortured electronics she had lost everything. Her comm, her lights, her limited maneuvering jets, her life support regulator, her emergency beacons. Everything. For a second her thoughts flickered to Skywalker. He'd been lost in deep space, too, awhile back. But she'd had a reason to find him. No one had a similar reason to find her.

I hate loneliness, but it loves me.

i am a trickster who doesn't know solitude

I'm a snake. My skin is cold. I have no heart. I slither…looking for prey with the tip of my tongue. I swallow the people I care about whole. That's the kind of creature I am. Don't you remember?

Ichigo… I hate rain. It rains in this world too. When you're upset, the skies grow cloudy. When you're sad, it rains. I can't stand it. I wonder if you can grasp…the terror of being rained on in this lonely world. To be able to hold back the rain…I'll give you everything I have. Should you place your trust in me…I won't let any rain fall on this world. Believe me… you aren't fighting alone… Ichigo!

I know loneliness…the loneliness of captivity…and the joy of being rescued by a friend. I know the horror of seeing a comrade fall. Don't worry, Orihime. I'm coming!

Because they were alone. In fact everyone was alone all the time, but when you got sick you knew it, and that was a lot of what suffering was-knowing.

And Marty understood that there was never going to be anyone to tell her these things. She had no idea why this should be so; it was just something she knew.

Privacy and loneliness were the traditional luxuries accorded to a skipper.

It was scary, and it was lonely, but it was home for Sergeant Chavez.

the false promises of digital technology and social networking. It wasn't bringing us together; it was making us lonelier and more selfish, less connected to our flesh-and-blood neighbors.