Quotes About Estrangement

I've dropped out of their hearts like a little sparrow fallen from its nest.

Basically, when I hear the words 'family drama,' I run in the opposite direction.

I understand the feelings of being the outcast and the loner.

I was always an outcast, even in my family.

As a kid I just felt like an outsider.

I'm an outsider.

My parents are terrorist scum, and that is why I have turned my back on them." The

He could not feel at ease with gourmets and hedonists; they were a hostile species.

The country she had taken for granted as her own, where she had been born, whose language alone she spoke, had rejected her and despised her.

The heart of [J.G.] Ballard's vision [is] the object at odds with its function and abandoned by its time.

I am an estranged man, said the liar: estranged from myself, from my family, my fellow man, my country, my world, my time, and my culture. I am not estranged from God, although I am a disbeliever in everything about God excepting God indefinable, inside all and careless of all.

Banish'd from [those we love] Is self from self: a deadly banishment!

This hand shall never more come near thee with such friendship

God be wi' you. Let's meet as little as we can. Orlando: I do desire we may be better strangers.

Perhaps," said Demelza, trembling all over. "Perhaps I'd ought to have asked for an introduction seeing it's so long since we met." "I don't doubt you have been well consoled in my absence," said Ross. "You were not concerned to come and see whether I was or no." "It seems that I was unwelcome when I did.

So much had happened in their relationship since the angry scene of last August that they met like strangers, remembering the old emotions but no longer feeling them.

where was she sleeping? Sleeping? As soon as I asked myself that, I became someone walking toward her in the night, down the hallway, barefoot, in just my shirt and pants, the tiny, just-a-tad twirl-up of her lip, slippery and reptilian, together with my cold and disagreeable rejection and estrangement from those I had left behind in Warsaw, drove me coldly toward her swinish lust which, somewhere here, in this sleeping house . . .Where was she sleeping?

Dylan was no longer seven but a grown woman of thirty-plus. Mind you, I have not been allowed to see her, speak to her, or correspond with her for twenty-three years. Everything she has heard about me since barely turning seven has been taught to her by Mia.

A world I will never feel comfortable in, never understand, and never approve of or forgive.

All the shrinks walked on eggshells with Mia, enabling her to prevent me from having any contact with my kids.

Getawayfrommeyoumiserablelittlecreep.

In my core I have the strange impression that I don't belong to the human species

I had always regarded Manhattan the way an orphan might think of the mother who had laid him on the doorstep of a mosque: it meant nothing to me but also everything.

At the window of my room, I catch my reflection in the glass. Shaggy black hair. Sneer.I look like a hungry ghost, glowering in at a world I am no longer fit to be a part of.