Quotes About Loneliness

There must be millions of people all over the world who never get any love letters... I could be their leader.

Are you by yourself, darling? I can't bear the thought of you dying alone. No, mum, I'm with my friend. I'm with Courtney... Courtney... He called out her name. 'Courtney,' he said. 'I'm sorry...' But Courtney was already dead.

Say who you are, really say it in your life and in your work. Tell someone out there who is lost, someone not yet born, someone who won't be born for 500 years. Your writing will be a record of your time. It can't help but be that. But more importantly, if you're honest about who you are, you'll help that person be less lonely in their world because that person will recognise him or herself in you and that will give them hope.

You and I share the same DNA. Is there anything more lonely than that?

When they were gone, she found her time hung heavy upon her hands...

I think," said Ethel, breaking in, "the philosophy is this: I believe that it is a trying life. I know teaching takes a great deal out of one; and loneliness may cause tendencies to dwell on fancied slights in trifles, that might otherwise be hurried over. But I think the thing is, to pass them over, and make a conscience of turning one's mind to something fresh—

I cry at nothing, and cry most of the time. Of course I don't when John is here, or anybody else, but when I am alone.

It was not a pleasant evening. She tried to read, but the insistent gnawing thought that her life was done, and not very well done at that, appeared on every page. She tried to sew—but the work she had at hand was unsatisfactory. "It's only another failure!" she said to herself, and laid it down. She had no fancy work. If her books failed her she was lonely indeed.

It's a sad thing not to have friends, but it is even sadder not to have enemies.

You know you're a hot mess when the only person buying you drinks all night is yourself.

Soon the bare but civilized streets of St. Paul gave way to emptier places with shorter buildings and fewer streetlights … and then no buildings, and no streetlights, and after a few turns I was urging the Nissan along a two-lane road in the middle of what could best be described as the geographic center of Godforsaken, Bumblefuck. The

Can't You get just ONE GUY to love me? You know this is the position I have been in my entire life. Unloved. Unknown. Not chosen.

There's nothing more frustrating than being in pain over the loss of a candidate and finding yourself surrounded by people ten years younger who are already married.

If a relationship crumbles in the universe, does anyone hear it fail?

I made it the mantra of those days; when I paused before yet another series of switchbacks or skidded down knee-jarring slopes, when patches of flesh peeled off my feet along with my socks, when I lay alone and lonely in my tent at night I asked, often out loud: Who is tougher than me? The answer was always the same, and even when I knew absolutely there was no way on this earth that it was true, I said it anyway: No one.

Being with him felt unbearable, but being with anyone else did too.

A beloved daughter who now spent holidays alone.

Z is like a motorcycle with no one on it. Beautiful. Going nowhere.

He hadn't loved

I saw no one, but, strange as it was, I missed no one. I

I happen to believe America is dying of loneliness, and we as people have are into the stream of convenience and turn away from our deep lives.

I happen to believe that America is dying of loneliness, that we, as a people have bought into the false dream of convenience, and turned away from a deep engagement with our internal lives.

I happen to believe that America is dying of loneliness, that we, as a people, have bought into the false dream of convenience, and turned away from a deep engagement with our internal lives—those

happen to believe that America is dying of loneliness, that we, as a people, have bought into the false dream of convenience, and turned away from a deep engagement with our internal lives—those fountains of inconvenient feeling—and toward the frantic enticements of what our friends in the Greed Business call the Free Market.