Quotes About Loneliness

The sound of her silk skirt has stopped.On the marble pavement dust grows.Her empty room is cold and still.Fallen leaves are piled against the doors.Longing for that lovely ladyHow can I bring my aching heart to rest?

Hear that lonesome whippoorwill?He sounds too blue to fly.The midnight train is whining low,I'm so lonesome I could cry.

But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.

You are a dreamer, and that is your misfortune.

I am utterly alone with myself, I see clearly that from now on I shall always be utterly alone with myself. I am somewhere where neither love nor friendship can reach, I am in hell … I have sinned for a brief while and I am being punished for it, incredibly severely, for a long time! But one should have known, before one sinned, how severe the punishment would be. One should have been warned beforehand, then one would not have sinned …

And while I walked out again into the countryside, which was slowly growing darker and darker, it became painfully clear to me that I was played out. I had nothing left to live for, I had lost my footing in society, and I felt I had not the strength to look for a new one, nor to fight to regain the old.

He sat in his shirt on the edge of the bed and stared into vacancy, desolate. The cigarette ash fell unnoticed on his spotless floor, patterned with the stars, and sun, and moon.

I remember one time I heard this English professor asking the class what the world's scariest noise is. Is it a man crying out in pain? A woman's scream of terror? A gunshot? A baby crying? And the professor shakes his head and says, 'No, the scariest noise is, you're all alone in your dark house, you know you're all alone, you know that there is no chance anyone else is home or within miles—and then, suddenly, from upstairs, you hear the toilet flush.

Writing is the hardest work in the world. I have been a bricklayer and a truck driver, and I tell you – as if you haven't been told a million times already – that writing is harder. Lonelier. And nobler and more enriching.

I was the green monkey, the pariah. And I had no friends. Not just a few friends, or one good friend, or grudging acceptance by other misfits and outcasts. I was alone. All stinking alone, without even an imaginary playmate.

But in the end, in the end one is alone. We are all of us alone. I mean I'm told these days we have to consider ourselves as being in society... but in the end one knows one is alone, that one lives at the heart of a solitude.

We all fear loneliness, madness, dying. Shakespeare and Walt Whitman, Leopardi and Hart Crane will not cure those fears. And yet these poets bring us fire and light.

In our opposed forms of loneliness and self-recognition and recognition of the other, we touched each other often as we spoke; and on shore in explorations of the past, we strolled with our arms linked...

You are in no man's land. Which never moves, which never changes, which never grows older, but remains forever, icy and silent.

My friends have forgotten me, My dependents and maidservants respond to me as a stranger. Summon my servant but he does not respond Ã¢â'¬Â¦ My odor is repulsive to my wife, I am loathsome to my children. (19:15–17) He

More than any other human problem, loneliness, the absence of meaningful human connection, drains the joy and the sense of purpose from our lives.

With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable.

Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close proximity to someone who has ceased to communicate. — Germaine Greer

It is a rare person who can cut himself off from mediate and immediate relations with others for long spaces of time without undergoing a deterioration in personality.

The life of a soldier far from the cannon's roar has little glamour to it.

The game enforces smirks; but we have seen The moon in lonely alleys make A grail of laughter of an empty ash can, And all through the sound of gaiety and quest Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.

Nobody likes being alone that much. I don't go out of my way to make friends, that's all. It just leads to disappointment.

I lost some of my friends because I got so famous, people who just assumed that I would be different now. I felt like everyone hated me. That is the most unhappy time of my life.

But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o'clock in the morning.