Quotes About Emptiness

Die Frauen liebten ihn zunächst abgöttisch (...), bewunderten ihn (...) dann ließ irgend etwas sie die Leere ahnen, sie machten kehrt und er erleichterte ihnen die Flucht, öffnete ihnen die Tür, damit sie weglaufen konnten, um anderswo zu spielen.

Estaba lugubre como cuando la sombra de Helene viene a habitarlo. A deshabitarlo

Y le sonriera con la sonrisa de otros tiempos pero nada mas que eso, la sonrisa vacia, la costumbre de una sonrisa donde talves habitaba la lastima

La guitarra en el ropero para siempre está colgada, nadie en ella toca nada ni hace sus cuerdas sonar.

Y diré las palabras que se dicen, y comeré las cosas que se comen, y soñaré las cosas que se sueñan, y sé muy bien que no estarás. No estarás para nada, no serás ni recuerdo, y cuando piense en ti pensaré un pensamiento que oscuramente trata de acordarse de ti...

Pero de todas maneras no había viajado, y era como una piedra negra en el medio de su alma

Sí, cenizas de la nada, le contesté yo. - Ni cenizas siquiera dijo el hombre. Ya ni los sueños quedan...

Como si un día, de pronto, las gentes hubieran levantado sus cabezas de la tierra, después de tantos siglos, y hubieran descubierto la miseria en que vivían y la posibilidad de remediarla en otra parte. Nadie volvió jamás. Nadie volvió siquiera para llevarse algunas de las cosas que aquí se habían dejado. Y, así, poco a poco, igual que muchos pueblos del contorno, Ainielle fue quedándose vacío, solitario y vacío para siempre.

My heart is beating like it's lonely, like there's nothing else inside of me.

and in the gloaming of her dwindling strength there yawned a loneliness so total it was beyond death, a loneliness that obliterated all memory, the loneliness of a childhood where she'd not even had her own name

Freezing out," she said. She had her gloves in one hand like a crumpled bouquet.

Travel light, was all she ever said about the house when he suggested he buy her a lamp or anything, and he suspected that she would have said the same thing about having more friends.

What is left when there is no love? A rope and rock.

Aqueles homens eram negros ou brancos, gordos ou magros, velhos ou novos, mas os olhos eram sempre os mesmos: vazios como ralos capazes de sugar o mundo inteiro.

You didn't talk about yourself, because you weren't really anybody, or your hopes, since you had none.

Now it is dark. Stars soar above the vacant city, heaven's diadem. A century since the last person walked here, and still one cannot travel its streets, as I do, without seeing one's face reflected a thousand-fold.

In her mind's eye she saw it, saw it all at last: the rolling armies and the flames of battle; the graves and pits and dying cries of a hundred million souls; the spreading darkness, like a black wing stretching over the earth; the last, bitter hours of cruelty and sorrow, and the terrible, final flights; death's great dominion over all, and, at the last, empty cities, becalmed by the silence of a hundred years. Already these things were coming to pass.

That was always the hardest part, missing you.

Silence, too, can be torture.

We live in a miserable world, where the best we can honestly hope for is that one empty, meaningless day will follow another without things getting actively worse.

Our work is to cross a treshold into emptiness and stillness. It is like entering an empty room that proves to hold a great presence. The apparent emptiness of simple presence is richer than the crowded experience of ordinary personality. We can either be empty with Spirit or full of ourselves.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill? Seek him always with hours to live. For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness. And in th sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

even the slow, soft telepathic connection between us- the sense of connectedness that linked us even when we were in the same room- the sense that we were not two people but rather one ecstatic and indivisible whole, had vanished. i couldnt even feel his pain. but i could feel mine. i felt as if a part of myself had been cut off, as if there was within my soul a hole so gaping and empty that the whole world could pass through it and still i would not feel a thing.

This Laotse illustrates by his favourite metaphor of the Vacuum. He claimed that only in vacuum lay the truly essential. The reality of a room, for instance, was to be found in the vacant space enclosed by the roof and walls, not in the roof and walls themselves. The usefulness of a water pitcher dwelt in the emptiness where water might be put, not in the form of the pitcher or the material of which it was made.