Quotes About Loneliness

For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.

give up believing that being able to escape our loneliness is going to bring any lasting happiness or joy or sense of well-being or courage or strength.

Less desire is the willingness to be lonely without resolution when everything in us yearns for something to cheer us up and change our mood. Practicing this kind of loneliness is a way of sowing seeds so that fundamental restlessness decreases.

The third kind of loneliness is avoiding unnecesssary activities. When we're lonely in a "hot" way, we look for something to save us; we look for a way out. We get this queasy feeling that we call loneliness, and our minds just go wild trying to come up with companions to save us from despair. That's called unnecessary activity. It's a way of keeping ourselves busy so we don't have to feel any pain.

Fear is a universal experience. Even the smallest insect feels it. We wade in the tidal pools and put our finger near the soft, open bodies of sea anemones and they close up. Everything spontaneously does that. It's not a terrible thing that we feel fear when faced with the unknown. It is part of being alive, something we all share. We react against the possibility of loneliness, of death, of not having anything to hold on to. Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.

Not to succeed in one thing is to fail in all.' Far more frightening than any poltergeist is the spectre of loneliness in old age.

Ze wist maar al te goed, terwijl ze daar in het doffe namiddaglicht zat met de potsierlijke verzameling kommen en schalen voor haar uitgestald, dat eenzaamheid tot eenzaamheid sprak en dat hij een rechtstreeks appél op haar gevoelens deed.

And I am forty-nine and getting old and soon it will be too late for all the things I know nothing of but which torment me in the middle of the night and here now in this place which is supposed to be a comfort and a solace. I am lonely and hungry and I have never breathed a word of this to anyone. Nobody knows or cares. I don't want anyone to know or care.

What have we done?' he asked, but there was no one to answer him.

lonely and isolated people who feel their solitude more intensely within the busy life of the streets. They are what George Gissing called the anchorites of daily life, who return unhappy to their solitary rooms.

Those who wander are always objects of suspicion and sometimes even of fear.

I knew I had been lonely, Mem, yet I had no understanding of my desolation until my skin was finally touched.

The murders were so ghastly you might think it peculiar that Lucinda, no matter how lonely she might be, would leave her house at all, or, accepting the peculiarity, you may wrongly attribute great courage to her when you hear she had driven, unaccompanied, through streets that were still, for the most part, unlighted. Further, she was by no means insensible to this murderer. She was informed that he was, in all likelihood, a butcher or, the press suggested, an unsuccessful apprentice.

My name is Tragic Solitude 000. I am the Keeper of the Ark.

The thing that eventually strikes you about the death of someone you love is the permanence. When that hits, there is an overpowering sense of loneliness and aloneness. Those wounds do not remain raw, not forever, but they do remain.

Ein Schriftsteller oder überhaupt jemand, der mit dem Alleinsein fertig geworden wäre, würde mich nicht mehr interessieren

Nu Å£in s? fiu fericit?,cel mult mulÅ£umit?.Mi-e team? de fericire.Cred c? n-aÅŸ suporta-o.Aici în cap.AÅŸ înnebuni pentru todeauna sau aÅŸ muri.Sau aÅŸ ucide pe cineva.(...)Traiul de unul singur genereaz? cea mai glacial? ÅŸi scârboas? durere:aceea a deÅŸert?ciunii.Atunci ai nevoie de oameni care te înva?? s?-Å£i dai seama c? nu ai dec?zut chiar atât de mult.

appetite for loneliness impressed me, and there was something about this solitude that freed conversation.

This is one reason why modern people are so unprepared for death: death is the one thing society can't do for you, the one thing that forces you to confront your trans-social self. We live as "the lonely crowd", but we die one at a time.

I was overtaken by a dread of utter solitude in the great turning world.

In sexual abandon as in danger we are impelled, however briefly, into that vital present in which we do not stand apart from life, we ARE life, our being fills us, in ecstasy with another being, loneliness falls away into eternity. But in other days, such union was attainable through simple awe.

Home was that lone house on its great bend of Chatham River, no destination anymore but only the source of a vague sadness he thought of as "homegoing," a returning to the lost paradise of true belonging.

Yeah, I want to retreat from the world and ponder in solitude. At the same time I wouldn't mind at least a couple of people pondering my whereabouts.

if you tried to take into account all the heartbreak behind the lighted windows of a single city on a single night, your head would explode clean off your neck. [Ineffectual Tribute to Len]