Quotes About Emptiness

Emptiness and boredom: what an understatement. What I felt was complete desolation. Desolation, despair, and depression. Isn't there some other way to look at this? After all, angst of these dimensions is a luxury item. You need to be well fed, clothes, and housed to have time for this much self-pity.

sighing as if he regretted leaving, although I thought not, that sudden oncoming of emptiness and sadness washing over me then, too.

The love withheld is always the love we long for most.

I just...I just miss him. And I hate being so alone.

She's really gone, then. The little girl with the back of her shirt sticking out like a duck tail,

Because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it.

The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. Where are you? I would cry out in my mind. Where have you gone? Of course, there was never any answer.

I miss him so badly it hurts.

I merely feel emptyness. A hollow of dead brush where flowers use to bloom.

I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.

I've stopped talking because there's really nothing left to say and there's this piercing sort of pain where my heart is.

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold.

I try to imagine a world where both Gale's and Peeta's voices have ceased. Hands stilled. Eyes unblinking. I'm standing over their bodies, having a last look, leaving the room where they lie. But when I open the door to step out into the world, there's only a tremendous void. A pale gray nothingness that is all my future holds.

I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone.

Ni vista, ni sonido, ni otra sensación que no sea el implacable ardor de la carne.

You know what I won't miss? People. Except for a handful. They're mostly awful, if you think about it.

Before anyone can ask anything, I empty my game bag and it becomes 18:00 — Cat Adoration.

His voice isn't angry. It's hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.

The whole world seems tilted, my inner ear displaced by a hole where my spouse used to be.

I'm so alone it's like being dead but still conscious.

We've run out of comforting things to say.

Do you really think anything can ever be the same again? She's empty, Sloane. She's the walking dead now.

we all have a God-sized hole inside of us that no amount of addictions or compulsions can fill.

Come molti autori ci raccontano, si scrive quando si ha qualcosa di interessante da raccontare. In questo momento, io ho solamente un vuoto mentale, e consegno a te la pagina bianca", replicò Roberta.