Quotes About Emptiness

The air between us is not empty space.

Then he bites an O in half and wills himself to remember nothing, think nothing, until all that exists is a flatness - a flatness he now identifies as himself.

for a person is so profound that it's part of who you are, then the absence of the person becomes part of your DNA, your bones,

When your love for a person is so profound that it's part of who you are, then the absence of the person becomes part of your DNA, your bones, and your skin. Charlie's and Sylvie's deaths were

There was something inexpressibly dreary about the Casino when it was empty, she thought. You could see all of it for what it was worth, and it was never good to see anything like that.

I've got no more tears or explanations.

All's taken away: my love and my power. The body, thrown into city it hates, Finds no joy in the sunlight. With every hour The blood grows colder in my veins.

I'm not grieving, I'm not angry, and only darkness accompanies me. How deep it is and velvety, above all, always familiar to me…

On Hemingway: Have you noticed how lonely all people in his works are - no relatives, no family?

Place down the poison right before me To take my voice out of my chest And wash away my shameful glory Into the gleaming nothingness.

Thus I live, without singing at all. Neither sky nor earth is for me.

how much I'd been thwarted into a carefully constructed nothingness by that man

He'd been unhappy, restless, irritable since leaving Surrey. He'd lived on memories of her. Her absence slowly strangled him. The instant he took Antonia in his arms, he breathed again.

Mana sirds ir k? liela, tukša soma, t?da pamat?ga soma, kur nek?da nek?rt?ba, nav iesp?jama, jo tur nek? nav iekš?.

No home anymore. Nowhere to return. My house is a ruin, a cemetery. You may yearn for the grave, but just try living there.

Like the dandelion clocks, all blown and dispersed on the wind, my life has evaporated into the emptiness of a dream; for which I blame my betrayer, that dubious stranger wearing the mask of a once-loved face.

Don't you like the sea any more?' she asked. [...] 'No,' said the man. 'I don't think so. I think I hate it.' But then, feeling the hollow, vague coldness inside the glass, and going away from the sea, there was nothing at all left and nothing mattered at all. 'I don't feel anything about it,' he said. 'I don't feel anything about anything.

We are surrounded by braggarts whose loud mouths propel their thin talent as far as the wind carries.

Here is one of the worst things about having someone you love die: It happens again every single morning.

Well, it's hard to say how I am these days, and that's the truth. I guess I'm still numb from my mother's death. I still can't quite believe I'll never see her again. That's the hardest part, suddenly thinking I'll have to tell her something later, and then I remember she's not there.

Darkness was already coming down like a cloak on the deserted streets,

I want to eat the melancholy I can feel inside my ribs, beside my heart. I want to eat the sad...

Loneliness sends you into your body instead of your brain.

I walk and walk with cold hands. Back at the house it is filled with longing, nothing to carry longing away. I look back over my life. I try to find analogies. There are none. I have longed for people before, I have loved people before. Not like this. It was not this.