Quotes About Loneliness

Each of us is now electronically connected to the globe, and yet we feel utterly alone.

worst kind of loneliness in the world is the isolation that comes from being misunderstood. It can make people lose their grasp on reality.

She cried for the life she could not control. She cried for the mentor who had died before her eyes. She cried for the profound loneliness that filled her heart. But, above all, she cried for the future … which suddenly felt so uncertain.

the worst kind of loneliness in the world is the isolation that comes from being misunderstood. It can make people lose their grasp on reality.

Believe me, I know what it's like to feel all alone … the worst kind of loneliness in the world is the isolation that comes from being misunderstood. It can make people lose their grasp on reality.

Believe me, I know what it's like to feel all alone Ã¢â'¬Â¦ the worst kind of loneliness in the world is the isolation that comes from being misunderstood. It can make people lose their grasp on reality.

Believe me, I know what it's like to feel all alone...the worst kind of loneliness in the world is isolation that comes from being misunderstood, it can make people lose their grasp on reality.

Believe me, I know what it's like to feel all alone ... the worst kind of loneliness in the world is the isolation that comes from being misunderstood. It can make people lose their grasp on reality. - Sienna Brooks

It talked about the isolation felt by gifted young people whose social skills could not keep up with their intellects and who were often ostracized.

De ergste vorm van eenzaamheid is het isolement waarin je belandt als niemand je begrijpt

As the droplets fell harder across his back and shoulders, he could feel his body disappearing bit by bit into the mist. I am a ghost.

Una nueva compulsión ardía en su interior. Era sencilla. Básica. Primaria. Encontrar a Vittoria. Sentía un inesperado vacío en su interior. A menudo había oído que una situación intensa podía unir a dos personas más que una convivencia de décadas. Ahora lo creía. En ausencia de Vittoria, sentía algo que no había sentido en años. Soledad. El dolor le daba fuerzas.

He couldn't imagine how lonely it must be for a child to be so profoundly different.

reckon it was some combination of these things, the feeling that I was separated from the rest of the people of earth by an invisible wall, like a fish in an aquarium.

Miles away, the red taillights of semi-trucks were moving along the interstate, and Dustin was suddenly aware that there were people inside them, that they were traveling to distant places and they would never know that he and Rusty were watching them. It made him feel a strange, tingling kind of ache.

The old man bridled at this. All his life he had gone out of his way to avoid any situation that might be mistaken for a friendship.

Francis Crozier believes in nothing. Life is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short . It has no plan, no point, no hidden mysteries that make up for the oh-so-obvious miseries and banalities. Nothing he has learned in the past six months has persuaded him otherwise. Has it?

Sol had not known he was lonely until he met Sarai.

We thought we were special, opening our perceptions, honing our empathy, spilling that cauldron of shared pain onto the dance floor of language and then trying to make a minuet out of all that chaotic hurt. It doesn't matter a damn bit. We're no avatars, no sons of god or man. We're only us, scribbling our conceits alone, reading alone, and dying alone.

In the end, it doesn't matter a damn bit. We thought we were special, opening our perceptions, honing our empathy, spilling that cauldron of shared pain onto the dance floor of language and then trying to make a minuet out of all that chaotic hurt. It doesn't matter a damn bit. We're no avatars, no sons of god or man. We're only us, scribbling our conceits alone, reading alone, and dying alone. Goddamn it hurts.

Alone with the Morlocks, thought Silenus. But not even Morlocks for company in the end. Only my muse. There

To make love to the one true person who deserves that love is one of the few absolute rewards of being a human being, balancing all of the pain, loss, awkwardness, loneliness, idiocy, compromise, and clumsiness that go with the human condition. To make love to the right person makes up for a lot of mistakes.

In the end, it doesn't matter a damn bit. We thought we were special, opening our perceptions, honing our empathy, spilling that cauldron of shared pain onto the dance floor of language and then trying to make a minuet out of all that chaotic hurt. It doesn't matter a damn bit. We're no avatars, no sons of god or man. We're only us, scribbling our conceits alone, reading alone, and dying alone.

I am merely a poet dying far from home.