Quotes About Emptiness

Even if we observe a small, empty region of space in which there are no atoms, we still detect a minute swarming of these particles.

El tiempo transcurrió, y mi vida tenía un gran vacío, existía temor en mi corazón. Mis metas en la vida eran tener paz y felicidad y creía que podría alcanzarlas a través del éxito y del reconocimiento en el trabajo. Por lo tanto, trabajé muchísimo creyendo que con la adquisición de bienes y la acumulación de dinero sería finalmente feliz.

For three weeks, we slept in the same bed together. We never had sex. We never kissed. We never took off more clothes than our pants. We just dreamed together. The conversations were brief. We didn't go on any dates. We didn't get to know each other. It was just a sleeping arrangement. To her, I was just a stuffed animal with a heartbeat.

I bet He's only sad for the part of me that belonged to Him.

Oh mother. I didn't know that when you died, I'd never be me anymore.

I am filled with the thirst of the desert.

Câte zile f?r? rost! Pline de poveÅŸti, o groaz? de poveÅŸti întunecate. PoveÅŸti terminate, altele abia începute, înfipte-n întunecimea zilei ca o creang? moart?.

summer tourists were long gone, the Christmas shoppers had left and it was just bare and beautiful and recovering, getting ready to start all over again.

I found myself in a place that was thorny, but because I was so used to being there, it bore out certain twisted sensations of comfort. It's a place called «alone».

What I'd like is a lobotomy, a clean job, the top of my head neatly sawn off and designated contents removed.

So little goes with the body of a man. So much is left behind.

There is the disease and the person, and though I am living with both, one has robbed me of the other.

The dead slip out quietly and leave furious holes in their wake. It's Fortune's strong suit. She keeps catching us unprepared, again and again.

and Lynn is dead inside, like a corpse. She Instagrams methodically, clinically, as if she's gathering evidence for defense, like her entire life is dedicated to proving that she has a life.

Your skin is a waste of space because there's no heart inside of you

There's emptiness in him that can never be filled, emptiness that dresses up well at prep school, where a lack of willpower is called creativity.

It would be nice to have something alive to hold on to right now, something to love me, something with a beating heart that I can feel, something to be with me as I sit here, in hell, trying to figure it out.

You don't lose a person all at once. You lose them in parts.

I felt small and exposed in his presence, as though my body was transparent and fragile as air, as though I might evaporate at any moment, or blow away.

Love—the desire to love and be loved, to hold and be held, to give love even if your experience as a recipient has been compromised or incomplete—is the constant on the continuum of hunger, it's what links the anorexic to the garden-variety dieter, it's the persistent pulse of need and yearning behind the reach for food, for sex, for something.

The one thing I do remember is that as I retraced my steps through all the familiar streets of my life, Inow felt completely lost.

This is happening; this is not fiction. And the thing about life? It doesn't have texture at all. Go ahead, feel the space around you. Do it now. See? It's nothing but air.

My only intent was to feel better—which is to say, not to feel at all.

I'm sorry it's not Mark - it could've been. It should've been. It might've meant something. Maybe not much, but certainly more