Quotes About Loneliness

She was bereft of love. She had never, not once in her life, been truly in love.

She had no idea how to cope with life and she was only vaguely aware of her own inner emptiness. Were she capable of explaining herself, she might well confide: the world stands outside me. I stand outside myself.

She felt like a dry branch, sticking out of the air. Brittle, covered in old bark. Maybe she was thirsty, but there was no water nearby. And above all the suffocating certainty that if a man were to embrace her at that moment she would feel not a soft sweetness in her nerves, but lime juice stinging them, her body like wood near fire, warped, crackling, dry.

I ask: will she ever someday know love's farewell? Will she ever someday know the swoonings of love? Will she take in her own way the sweet journey? I know nothing. What can you do with the truth that everyone's a little sad and a little alone.

Macabéa had a passion for horror films and musicals. She especially liked films where the women were hanged or shot through the heart with a bullet. It never dawned on her that she herself was a suicide case even though she had never contemplated killing herself. Her life was duller than plain bread and butter.

Qué se puede hacer con la verdad de que todo el mundo esté un poco triste y un poco solo.

he thinks that flowers are hauntingly delicate like a sigh of nobody in the dark.

La persona della quale parlerò e così sciocca che, a volte, per strada, sorridere gli altri. Nessuno le ricambia il sorriso neppure la vedono.

desde la niñez no fue más que un corazón solitario que latía con dificultad en el espacio.

I write because I have nothing else to do in the world: I was left over and there is no place for me in the world of men

She was supersonic in life. Nobody noticed that with her existence she was breaking the sound barrier. For other people she didn't exist.

I am alone in the world and I don't believe in anyone, everyone lies, sometimes even when making love, I don't think one being speaks to another, the truth only comes to me when I'm alone.

La cama blanquecina nadando en la oscuridad. El cansancio arrastrándose por su cuerpo

Soledad es tener sólo destino humano.

And that was what I felt when reading your book: that solitude." "Imagine the solitude of the person who wrote it.

Adiós. No, quien viaja por la noche solo mira por la ventana y no dice adiós.

But there are those who starve to death and all I can do is be born. My rigmarole is: what can I do for them? My answer is: paint a fresco in adagio. I could suffer the hunger of others in silence but a contralto voice makes me sing—I sing dull and black. It's my message of a person alone. A person eats another from hunger. But I fed myself with my own placenta. And I'm not going to bite my nails because this is a tranquil adagio.

Perhaps in arriving at the foundation of his grief and loneliness, immediate death or immediate life were the only choices within reach. He chose to live. From his rock bottom loneliness emerged a new life and a real self was restored.

Such depth of loneliness cannot be understood or communicated but it can be shared…He resolved if he came out alive to devote himself to good and creative works.

Loneliness leaves some after-effects. Mostly just a tired feeling. Not wanting to talk to anyone, not wanting to do anything. But, most of them can be remedied by just starting to do something. Something that you like to do.

During his hours of bitter loneliness, when he became utterly aware and sensible, he understood the ultimate meaning of being alone. He realized how wrong his sense of values had been and how he had failed to see that the simple, the natural, the homely, the unpretentious things in life are what really matter.

In spite of sheer concentration and every effort of will power, Byrd could not avoid the terrible evenness and loneliness of silence.

Byrd anticipated the crisis of loneliness. What he had not counted on was how closely a man could come to dying and still not die or want to die.

I could never again see the evening sun fading into oblivion without feeling lonely.