Quotes About Loneliness

This night of no moonThere is no way to meet him.I rise in longing—My breast pounds, a leaping flame,My heart is consumed in fire.

myÅ›lÄ™, ?e to ludzie stworzyli Boga, a nie na odwrót. MyÅ›lÄ™, ?e ludzie wymyÅ›lili go z samotnoÅ›ci, bezsilnoÅ›ci, rozpaczy. Czyli po to, by da? odpowied? na zagadkÄ™ egzystencji, aby zÅ'agodzi? nierozwiÄ…zywalne pytania, które ?ycie rzuca nam w twarz... Kim jesteÅ›my, skÄ…d przybywamy, dokÄ…d idziemy.

I go about saying how pained and tormented, how lonely and sad I feel, but what do I really mean by that? If I were to speak the truth, I would die.

I also have the impression that many women have been able, instinctively, to sniff out this loneliness of mine, which I confided to no one, and this in later years was to become one of the causes of my being taken advantage of.

Most women have only to lay eyes on you to want to be doing something for you so badly they can't stand it … You're always so timid and yet you're funny … Sometimes you get terribly lonesome and depressed, but that only makes a woman's heart itch all the more for you.

Good night. I'm Cinderella without her prince. Do you know where to find me in Tokyo? You won't see me again.

No. You won't do. You've treated me nicely, yes, but only because you find me curious and amusing. It made me feel so lonely, somehow... I'm really just a foolish and useless person.

And I was incapable of living all by myself in those lodgings where I didn't know a soul. It terrified me to sit by myself quietly in my room. I felt frightened, as if I might be set upon or struck by someone at any moment.

As long as I can make them laugh, it doesn't matter how, I'll be all right. If I succeed in that, the human beings probably won't mind it too much I remain outside their lives.

There are some people whose dread of human beings is so morbid that they reach a point where they yearn to see with their own eyes monsters of ever more horrible shapes.

Are "people in the world", I wonder, creatures that spend their whole lives greeting each other in stiff, formal patterns, being cautious about each other, then growing tired of each other? I hate meeting people.

You've treated me nicely, yes, but only because you find me curious and amusing. It's made me feel so lonely, somehow.

Nevertheless, I still wait for someone. Who on earth am I waiting for, sitting here everyday? For what sort of person? Maybe what I'm waiting for isn't even a human. I dislike humans. No, I fear them. When I meet someone and indifferently exchange such greetings as 'How are you?' or 'It's become cold', greetings I don't want to make, I somehow get the unpleasant feeling that there is no such horrible liar in the whole world as I, and I wish I were dead.

Nobody in the world understood our suffering. In time, when we became adults, we might look back on this pain and loneliness as a funny thing, perfectly ordinary, but—but how were we expected to get by, to get through this interminable period of time until that point when we were adults? There was no one to teach us how. Was there nothing to do but leave us alone, like we had the measles? But people died from the measles, or went blind. You couldn't just leave them alone.

no thought in the world is worse than the realization that, "My life is a nuisance to others. I am useless.

I was plagued by a heavy sense of loss, as if my heart had become empty.

I should like to record that as I manipulated the peeling lacquer chopsticks to eat my jelly, I felt unbearably lonely.

One day, I went to a soba restaurant outside town, and while I was waiting for the zarusoba I opened an old graph magazine. There was a picture of an exhausted, lonely kneeling woman who wore a checked patterned yukata after the tradegy of a large earthquake. With the intensity of my chest ready to burn up, I fell in love with that poor woman. I also felt a horrifying desire for her. Maybe tragedy and desire are back to back to one another.

Ojii-san's wen has been his only confidant, and he's conscious of a certain loneliness without it.

Most drinkers are lonely men, isolated in their own homes. To ask whether they drink because they're isolated or isolated because the rest of the family disapprove of their drinking would be like clapping and trying to decide which hand made the sound—it can only lead to a lot of vain quibbling.

Por lo que parece, mi concepto de la felicidad está en completo desacuerdo con el del resto de las personas, y la intranquilidad que genera me hace dar vueltas y gemir por las noches en mi cama. Incluso ha llegado a afectar me la razón.

He was dead, that familiar, frightening presence who had never left my heart for a split second. I felt as though the vessel of my suffering had become empty, as if nothing could interest me now. I had lost even the ability to suffer.

I know that I am liked by other people, but I seem to be deficient in the faculty to love others.

I was cured by the unhappy peculiarity that the more I feared people the more I was liked, and the more I was liked the more I feared them - a process which eventually compelled me to run away from everybody.