Quotes About Alienation

Little people irritate me. I felt like this monstrous giant alongside them.

He knew how it felt to be on the perimeter of relationships, to feel as if you'd never quite belong.

But then you hear that he can't hear you, you see that he can't see you. You are not here--and you haven't even died yet. You see yourself through his eyes, as The Generic Woman, the skirted symbol on the ladies' room door.

We live in a world of increasing alienation, where meeting the right person for life grows harder and harder. Why would we want to spend our free time reading about this grim reality? I have spent many happy months escaping into the writing of my feel-good world of Happy Ever Afters. And what is wrong with that? It makes people feel good. I'm not selling anyone a lie.

The transatlantic transport of all of these various Africans to the Americas qualifies as the quintessential moment of transfiguration, the height of human alienation and disorientation.

Los Angeles wasn't a sun-splashed utopia anymore—it was an alienated, smog-choked sprawl rife with racial and class tensions, recession, and stifling boredom.

Rastafari teachings vigorously advocated self-sufficiency through self-awareness and provided an alternative source of meaning and identity to lives that were frequently mired in hopelessness, alienation, and despair.

He did not belong to the Indians. He did not belong to the whites. And it was not time for him to belong to the stars. He belonged right where he was. He belonged nowhere.

He did not belong to the Indians. He did not belong to the whites. And it was not time for him to belong to the stars. He belonged right where he was now. He belonged nowhere.

Being very strange kept people away. And if people stayed away, you could never disappoint them.

I knew I was alone in a way that no earthling has ever been before.

He was empty, and he was full. He was alone. Yes, he was alone among men. He was an alien, a stranger and sojourner like all his fathers before him. He knew now the anguish of exiles, the depth of their loneliness. And he saw that this was a gift, for it was the state of pilgrims journeying toward their own true home.

If we see ourselves as alienated from God, we have a huge problem. That's exactly what the Abrahamic faiths do to us – they alienate us from who we really are, from our divine spark. Instead of making us search for God inside ourselves, they project God onto an external figure; remote, alien, infinitely high above humanity.

He left because the world is not made to accommodate people like him.

And right then, I come the closest I think I ever will to understanding why Knight left. He left because the world is not made to accommodate people like him. He was never happy in his youth -- not in high school, not with a job, not being around other people. It made him feel constantly nervous. There was no place for him, and instead of suffering further, he escaped. It wasn't so much a protest as a quest; he was like a refugee from the human race. The forest offered him shelter (p 182)

These hermits often wonder how the rest of the world can be so blind, not to notice what we're doing to ourselves. "I have become solitary," wrote the eighteenth-century French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, "because to me the most desolate solitude seems preferable to the society of wicked men

If you're born a human oddity, says the introductory chapter of Very Special People, every day of your life, starting in infancy, you are made aware that you are not as others are. When you get older, it continues, things are likely to get worse. You may hide from the world, advises the book, to avoid the punishment it inflicts on those who differ from the rest in mind or body.

Imagine someone sitting alone in a room without television, radio, computer or phone and with the door closed and the blinds down. This person must be a dangerous lunatic or a prisoner sentenced to solitary confinement. If a free agent, then a panty-sniffing loser shunned by society, or a psycho planning to return to college with an automatic weapon and a backpack full of ammo.

You're not normal!" she hissed. Then she gathered her garments and ran off into the night. Nouri lay back and looked up at the stars. He did not know what it meant to be normal. He only knew what it meant to be Nouri. Who had four ears. And was far from home. And was trying to find his way back to God. So he rose from the bench and made his way to his room, where he finally gave over to his crushing fatigue.

We have to heal our wounded world. The chaos, despair, and senseless destruction we see today are a result of the alienation that people feel from each other and their environment.

Lawrence: A man who gives himself to the possession of aliens leads a Yahoo life. In my case my effort for these years to live in the dress of Arabs, and to imitate their mental foundation, quitted me of my English self, and let me look at the West and its conventions with new eyes, and destroyed it all for me. At the same time I could not sincerely take on the Arab skin: it was an affectation only.

I once had a patient who was convinced that his head was full of sea water and a crab lived inside. When I asked him what happened to his brain he told me that aliens had sucked it out with a drinking straw. "It is better this way," he insisted. "Now there's more room for the crab.

There is no Israel for me.

I don't like this world. I definitely do not like it. The society in which I live disgusts me; advertising sickens me; computers make me puke. My entire work as a computer expert consists of adding to the data, the cross-referencing, the criteria of rational decision-making. It has no meaning. To tell the truth, it is even negative up to a point; a useless encumbering of the neurons. This world has need of many things, bar more information.