Quotes About Loneliness

The universe is a pretty big place. If it's just us, seems like an awful waste of space.

The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to.

The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to.

Let your heart look on white sea spray and be lonely. Love is a fool star. You and a ring of stars may mention my name and then forget me. Love is a fool star.

And there's nobody there. But

Every means has proved powerless, every path too short. God's impenetrable night wraps round us. Terrible loneliness accompanies us, but this is necessary and inevitable. Every word of consolation seems like a lie. One believes one has been abandoned by God.

La vita è triste, tra quei grattacieli, con tutte quelle straordinarie comodità, e gli ascensori, le porte girevoli, la metropolitana, e sempre case e palazzi e strade, e mai un po' di terra. Viene la malinconia.

Life is all one long hard thing. He must have the courage to feel alone, to look his own pain in the face, bearing the entire weight of it.

Los dioses se alejan cada día un poco más en sus cielos. El hombre se queda solo, a merced de un mundo en revolución. Las líneas que Jaynes escribe sobre este período son muy bellas. En ellas percibimos el eco del célebre lamento [Tablilla «Ludlul bel nemeqi», figura 19]: Mi dios me abandonó y desapareció. Mi diosa me visita con menos frecuencia y se mantiene distante. El ángel bueno que caminaba a mi lado se fue…

I knew that even if I went back to them, after many years of loneliness in another land, I would not be able to pick up where I had left off.

For an instant I think I saw. I saw the loneliness of man as a gigantic wave which had been frozen in front of me, held back by the invisible wall of a metaphor.

Minh'alma chove frio, tristinho. Não te comove este versinho?

I could tell you it's the heart, but what is really killing him is loneliness. Memories are worse than bullets.

For three weeks, we slept in the same bed together. We never had sex. We never kissed. We never took off more clothes than our pants. We just dreamed together. The conversations were brief. We didn't go on any dates. We didn't get to know each other. It was just a sleeping arrangement. To her, I was just a stuffed animal with a heartbeat.

I've taken to talking to the ground as if it is Stacy. I tell her how happy I am to still be with her, even though we can't see each other. I'm sure she feels the same way, comforting her lonely nights by knowing that I am still inside her, thinking about her. After my voice starts to get scratchy, I just speak to her in my head.

It would definitely be death to my social life. And life is worthless without a social life.

Yo recuerdo siempre que cuando tenía cinco años dije a mi madre que estaba deseando ser mayor para salir sola a la calle. Me contestaron que mientras más mayor fuese más acompañada iría siempre. Para mí esta contestación fue horrible. Me acuerdo todavía de la perra que cogí y de lo angustiosa que me pareció la vida en aquel momento

No sé cuántas horas estuve sin dormir, con los ojos abiertos y resecos recogiendo todos los dolores que pululaban, vivos como gusanos, en las entrañas de la casa.

La vida volvía a ser solitaria para mí. Como era algo que parecía no tener remedio, lo tomé con resignación.

I tend the mobile now like an injured bird We text, text, text our significant words. I re-read your first, your second, your third, look for your small xx, feeling absurd. The codes we send arrive with a broken chord. I try to picture your hands, their image is blurred. Nothing my thumbs press will ever be heard. "Text

I was a very lonely child and it's funny but the first word that comes to my head is "starved". I felt starved of affection, starved of love and I felt that it wasn't OK to ask for it. Maybe there was a sense that if I deserved it, it would be there. There must be something I'd done which meant I didn't deserve it.

I was a very lonley child and it's funny but the first word that comes to my head is "starved". I felt starved of affection, starved of love and I felt that it wasn't OK to ask for it. Maybe there was a sense that if I deserved it, it would be there. There must be something I'd done which meant I didn't deserve it.

She fails to see who I am, even, for her eyes do not, will not, take me in. Instead they transmit a powerful message. She is like a billboard flashing, starkly: 'Keep Out'.

I want someone to pinch me so I can feel something, anything. I'm sick of this numbness, of feeling so alone and outside of everything, but I know it's too dangerous to wake up." —Ruth Mendenberg