Quotes About Emptiness

Nelere sahibim! Ama onu dü?ünmem; neyim varsa hepsini çekip at?yor! Nelere sahibim... Ama onsuz, benim için her ?ey hiçle?iyor!

Wenn wir uns selbst fehlen, fehlt uns doch alles.

E s'abituava a disfarsi di tutto, per non aver più niente da perdere.

We have always had reluctance to see a tract of land which is empty of men as anything but a void. The "waste howling wilderness" of Deuteronomy is typical. The Oxford Dictionary defines wilderness as wild or uncultivated land which is occupied "only" by wild animals. Places not used by us are "wastes." Areas not occupied by us are "desolate." Could the desolation be in the soul of man?

being alone with him was like being in a room which someone had just violently left

And indeed nothing had happened, a momentous nothing, just another of the great world's shrugs of indifference.

Müzik zaman?, ÅŸimdi olduÄŸu gibi,nab?z at??lar?na dönüÅŸtürdüÄŸünde, sonsuzluk aradaki boÅŸluklardad?r

Once in a sycamore I was glad all at the top, and I sang. Hard on the land wears the strong sea and empty grows every bed.

When a parent dies, for those left behind it can feel as though half the sky has fallen. My father was the sheltering sky, and beneath his mild firmament no storm ever raged, no hard rain fell.

It's not easy losing someone," she said. "It never goes away, does it?" "The Phantom Pain, they call it," I said. "Like amputees get when they can still feel their missing limbs.

You are forever alone.

Sleep's what we need. It produces an emptiness in us into which sooner or later energies flow.

for we have found that by excluding we grow thin inside even though we may have an enormous bank account outside.

I have nothing to say, and I am saying it, and that is poetry.

Every something is an echo of nothing

There is poetry as soon as we realize that we possess nothing.

Accordingly, we shall find   angels and men to be dry, heaven to be empty, the earth to be   unproductive, and, in short, all things to be of no value, if we wish   to be partakers of the gifts of God in any other way than through   Christ.

I will never come back, and if I do there will be nothing left, there will be nothing left but the headstones to record what has happened; there will really be nothing at all.

She cried for herself, she cried because she was afraid that she herself might die in the night, because she was alone in the world, because her desperate and empty life was not an overture but an ending, and through it all she could see was the rough, brutal shape of a coffin.

O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away

He was trying to put loss into words, but loss is absence and will always defy expression.

When she was taken from me it was like the death of a world, an infinite number of futures coming to an end.

He became merely the broken statue of a beast, now without another's fear to animate it.

We haunt ourselves, I sometimes think; or, rather, we choose to be haunted. If there is a hole in our lives, then something will fill it. We invite it inside, and it accepts willingly.