Quotes About Loneliness

he was a lonely straight male, and a lonely straight male had no equivalently forgiving Theory of Masculinism to help him out of this bind, this key to all misogynies: To feel as if he couldn't survive without a woman made a man feel weak; And yet, without a woman in his life, a man lost the sense of agency and difference that, for better or worse, was the foundation of his manhood.

The Astors and the Vanderbilts, their pleasure domes and money: she was sick of it. Sick of envying, sick of herself. She didn't understand antiques or architecture, she couldn't draw like Sylvia, she didn't read like Ted, she had few interests and no expertise. A paucity for love was the only true thing she'd ever had.

but he was a lonely straight male, and a lonely straight male had no equivalently forgiving Theory of Masculinism to help him out of this bind, this key to all misogynies: ¶ To feel as if he couldn't survive without a woman made a man feel weak; ¶ And yet, without a woman in his life, a man lost the sense of agency and difference that, for better or worse, was the foundation of his manhood.

No wonder, I thought, her little routines meant so much to her. She gave me so many insights into my own life but, too, an insight into the lives of people who wake up alone every morning and find the courage to get out of bed and show their face.

We're each alone inside our heads, some more so than others.

I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone. I wondered, for the first time in my life, if life was worth all the work it took to live. What exactly made it worth it? What's so horrible about being dead forever, and not feeling anything, and not even dreaming? What's so great about feeling and dreaming?

In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that, and so I felt, that night, like the turtle that everything else in the universe was on top of.

Mom told me, "It probably gets pretty lonely to be Grandma, don't you think?" I told her, "It probably gets pretty lonely to be anyone.

It was terrible. All of the things we couldn't share. The room was filled with conversations we weren't having.

I was more alone than if I had been alone.

It made me start to wonder if there were other people so lonely so close. I thought about "Eleanor Rigby." It's true, where do they all come from? And where do they all belong?

To feel alone is to be alone.

My boots were so heavy that I was glad there was a column beneath us. How could such a lonely person have been living so close to me my whole life? If I had known, I would have gone up to keep him company.

I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone.

Weeks passed like boats waiting to sail into the starless dawn, we were full of aimless endless darkness.

I hit the spacebar again and again and again. My life story was spaces.

Deep down, the young are lonelier than the old.' I read that in a book somewhere and it's stuck in my head. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's not true. More likely, the young and the old are lonely in different ways, in their own ways...

Someone needed to invent a way to be close to people without having to see them, or talk to them on the phone, or write (or read) letters, or e-mails, or texts.

A Seeing Eye bitch is not only for blind people but for people who pine for the negative of loneliness.

The wanting, the needing, the distance, the disappointment: growing, knowing, committing, aging beside another. Alone, one can live perfectly. But not a life.

It was the feeling of not wanting to live in the world, even if it was the only place to live.

The center of me followed her, but I was left with the shell of me.

It's not that I want people to think I am smart, or even that I am a good writer. I write because I want to end my loneliness.

One day I wandered away from her and hid. I liked the way it felt to have someone look for me, to hear my name again and again. Oskar! Oskar! Maybe I didn't even like it, but I needed it right then.