Quotes About Loneliness

fratele sãu mai mare, care È™edea cu o carte latineascã sub teiul bãtrân din faÈ›a curÈ›ii parohiale È™i pentru care pãsãrile cântau în zadar, iar soarele îÈ™i risipea fãrã folos aurul topit.

Angry people may appear strong, willful, or certain, but be assured that beneath the veneer are fear and loneliness and insecurity and pain. Especially, there is pain.

Who is the lonely Traveller Racing the moonlight to my door? Racing his troika over the steppe Pacing his steeds with the wind in the forest. The North wind that harries The South wind that tarries Who the lone Traveller come to my door? — Lonely no more." Siberian song - Trans-Baikal region

If Muhammad weren't standing lonely vigil on the mountain, you might say that there was no sign of anything unusual about him.

I'm going to be an orphan like you." .... "I miss everything.

I'm going to be an orphan like you." .... "I miss Dad every day" ... "I miss everything." ... I woke up early with a heavy sadness... I was so stressed that I woke up at 2 a.m., mad with remorse... Frantic...

And I discovered Norton's anthology of poetry in the patients' library – it changed my life. I read the poems over and over again before I began to grasp their meanings. It wasn't just that the words were musical notes my eyes could sing. It was the discovery that women and men, long dead, had left me messages about their feelings, emotions I could compare to my own. I had finally found others who were as lonely as I was. In an odd way, that knowledge comforted me.

I feel like a ghost, Edna. Like I've been buried alive. As far as the world's concerned, I was born the day I began to pass. I have no past, no loved ones, no memories, no me. No one really sees me or speaks to me or touches me.

Do you know what people really want? Everyone, I mean. Everybody in the world is thinking: I wish there was just one other person I could really talk to, who could really understand me, who'd be kind to me. That's what people really want, if they're telling the truth.

His thirst was as tall as he was and more the man. It walked alone and was the only real life in the wind-weary February night.

Here's my problem. On Valentine's Day the flowers are wilting and so am I.

There was a flight from Cleveland to New York City with just two people on board. There hasn't been two people on an airplane since the Wright brothers.

She was a person with her own hopes and feelings and history and nightmares. In her own way she was as lost as he was.

Quentin did a magic trick. Nobody noticed. They picked their way along the cold, uneven sidewalk together: James, Julia, and Quentin. James and Julia held hands. That's how things were now. The sidewalk wasn't quite wide enough, so Quentin trailed after them, like a sulky child. He would rather have been alone with Julia, or just alone period, but you couldn't have everything. Or at least the available evidence pointed overwhelmingly to that conclusion.

Now that he was teaching Quentin could see why the faculty didn't bother trying to improve the climate. It kept people amazingly focused. … You could actually watch as the determination to seize the moment and live life to the fullest ebbed right out of them, and they resigned themselves to lonely, silent, indoor study instead.

Julia picked at her food, managing a bite every few minutes, like her body was an unloved pet that she was being forced to babysit.

Quentin felt cold all the time like he was trapped in his own private individual winter

Selv om det ingen gjester var, var Anna like opptatt med seg selv som ellers og dessuten svært opptatt av å lese - både romaner og alvorlige bøker, slike som var på mote nå. Hun bestilte alle de bøkene som ble rosende omtalt i de utenlandske avisene og tidsskriftene hun mottok, og pløyet dem igjennom med den oppmerksomhet for det man leser som man bare finner hos mennesker i ensomhet.

You see it's a peculiar case. It won't be like an ordinary marriage, a young couple and so on, nor a mariage de convenance, either, in the ordinary sense. Here are two lonely people intending to live solitary lives. Suddenly, you -- most kindly, I must say -- introduce us. I, with my great experience and my instinctive flair, see immediately that this is the right woman in the right place. I bother her until she consents -- and there you are.

Christ, will I ever find someone who is not crying inside?

Always winter but never Christmas.

Mr. Raney named the porpoises - Sister Woman, and Renford, and Lamar, and St. Elmo - and could recognize them, and call each by its name, even at night, six feet long, some of them, with a million sharp teeth and a naughty grin. Often when he floated past in the boat and watched their playful wheeling, in and out among the cypress knees, he called out to them, "Lamar, we are all alone in the world!" or "Renford, cork is an export product of India!

Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets.

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.