Quotes About Apathy

Dullness is the enemy.

I'm still tired and sleeping all the time and still not enough. My arms are just hanging down at my sides and I don't feel like doing anything at all. And I don't have any desire — for nothing, not money, not my mother, not Therese.

Isn't it sad that you can tell people that the ozone layer is being depleted, the forests are being cut down, the deserts are advancing steadily, that the greenhouse effect will raise the sea level 200 feet, that overpopulation is choking us, that pollution is killing us, that nuclear war may destroy us -- and they yawn and settle back for a comfortable nap. But tell them that the Martians are landing, and they scream and run.

And this the burthen of his songForever used to be,"I care for nobody, not I,If no one cares for me."

Novels as dull as dishwater, with the grease of random sentiments floating on top.

That was a time when I didn't give a damn about anything, the period when I came to settle in this city. "Settle" is the wrong term. I had no desire to be settled in any sense;

It's not that you expect anything in particular from this particular book. You're the sort of person who, on principle, no longer expects anything of anything.

L'affetto è anch'esso una fatica e nessuno vi si sottopone per regola: il vero riposo è l'indifferenza.

"And he was as intelligent as other people, his soul was pure and clear as crystal; he was noble and affectionate—and yet he did nothing!""But why? What was the reason?""The reason… what reason was there? Oblomovism!"

I remember that a wise friend of mine did usually say, "That which is everybody's business is nobody's business."

The human race sleepwalked to oblivion, thinking only of the corporate logos on it's shroud.

Indifferentism about doctrine makes no heroes of the faith.

The only kind of dignity which is genuine is that which is not diminished by the indifference of of others.

Thank you mister. You fight for liberty. Me I don't care for some.

Eleven years later. Numbers have dehumanized us. Over breakfast coffee we read of 40,000 American dead in Vietnam. Instead of vomiting, we reach for the toast. Our morning rush through crowded streets is not to cry murder but to hit that trough before somebody else gobbles our share.

The American people have a nasty habit of waiting until it's far too late to start giving a shit. By and large, your average eligible voter tunes in to politics once every two or four years because they have been scared, shocked, bullied, cajoled, stimulated, seduced, suckered, or outright fear fucked by one or more extremities of the hideous mutant that is our electoral process.

cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells

The opposite of passionate love is not hatred; it is indifference.

Zo ging het leven onafgebroken en eentonig voort, als met een zenuwachtig egoïstisch materialisme: er werd geleden en er daalde geen algemeen rouwfloers neer op de wereld; er werd geleden en toch bleef alles het zelfde en lachte men, sliep men, at men rondom dat leed.

Voelde zij, dat het leven over alles wat van ons is, geluk of smart, heenradert met zijn onverschillige jubelkarren en dat het maar het beste is om niets te geven en te voelen, ook niets?

Peter Morrow took no risks. He neither failed nor succeeded. There were no valleys, but neither were there mountains. Peter's landscape was flat. An endless, predictable desert.

Oh, no,' she responded, with all the emotion one greets a stain on an old T-shirt.

Her high school marks were mixed. She barely scraped by, though she did well, but erratically, in history, languages and literature." "She only did what interested her," said Lacoste. "Lazy?" "Looks like it. Or at least, not motivated.

I am so depressed and bored I may even have to do some homework.