Quotes About Emptiness

She already felt dead in everything but name. What remained to be taken from her? She longed to be enfolded, welcomed, into the earth - to breathe no more, love no more, hurt no more

An aching vacuum inside her sucking the air from her lungs. She hung her head and wept fiercely, the emptiness inside her growing larger not smaller; she felt as though it would grow so large it would suffocate her just as surely as the sea would have

They don't know what it's like. Inside. For them it's only fun, even though I tell them it isn't. You see I don't delete. Anything. Ever.

The tragedy of this world is that everyone is alone. For a life in the past cannot be shared with the present.

Happiness is the most insidious prison of all.

My heart is dark and ripe as a bruise. An ache hollowing me out. Missing you has no purpose, no point. But still I do.

But to me nothing - the negative, the empty - is exceedingly powerful.

Nothing had ever existed between us except the possibility of something, and now even that was over.

Across the land, the semaphore towers stood deathly still.

Somewhere out beyond the Empty there now shone stars that had been born in gas clouds after this room was decorated. There were stars that had been alive then that were just corpses now, if they had left the least trace of themselves. There was just too much past, too much time that had already happened, and our lives were as nothing against that endless black conveyor belt, ceaselessly rolling, stretching and stretching ever further backward into a dread eternity.

There was no present, no past, no future. No sadness, no sorrow, because those were ordinary little human emotions that required a frame of reference, and she had none to cling to. She had caved in, become a measureless void, no poles, no lines of latitude or longitude. She was an emptiness bigger than galaxies, unmapped and unmappable.

My personal life is fairly barren.

All phenomena are empty.

I lost my dad way too early and it was agonisingly awful. I missed him so much and I hated knowing that I could never again pick up the phone to tell him about my day.

Dad was wiped from our lives. The day after he died, every photo of him disappeared from the house. It was as if he'd never existed. Me and my brothers weren't even allowed to go to his funeral. His death was made absolute.

To photograph reality is to photograph nothing.

I was so empty. I didn't always feel physically bad. I was able to play, but I wasn't there 100%. I felt I was fighting this strange feeling rather than the opponent; I couldn't really describe what was going on.

Nothing is hanging on my walls.

I have everything, yet have nothing; and although I possess nothing, still of nothing am I in want.

I think about that 'empty' space a lot. That emptiness is what allows for something to actually evolve in a natural way. I've had to learn that over the years - because one of the traps of being an artist is to always want to be creating, always wanting to produce.

Power might feel tasty and good in the moment, but it will never be satisfying, never fill you up. Yep, no matter how much power you get, you will always feel empty. You just keep wanting more and more power.

As the scene of life would be more the cold emptiness of space than the warm, dense atmosphere of planets, the advantage of containing no organic material at all, so as to be independent of both these conditions, would be increasingly felt.

I saw the void beneath the surface of the world; it threatened to pull me under.

Experiencing nothingness had left her feeling unexpectedly full.