Quotes About Emptiness

It's quiet. No cars. No birds. Nothing.' 'No radio waves,' said the Doctor. 'Not even Radio Four.' 'You can hear radio waves?' 'Of course not. Nobody can hear radio waves,' he said unconvincingly.

There is nothing more alone than being in a car at night in the rain.

Death says a million words that the heart can't pen.

THE SECOND MARK of existence is egolessness, sometimes called no-self. These words can be misleading. They don't mean that we disappear—or that we erase our personality. Egolessness means that the fixed idea that we have about ourselves as solid and separate from each other is painfully limiting. That we take ourselves so seriously, that we are so absurdly important in our own minds, is a problem. Self-importance is like a prison for

When we cling to thoughts and memories, we are clinging to what cannot be grasped. When we touch these phantoms and let them go, we may discover a space, a break in the chatter, a glimpse of open sky. This is our birthright—the wisdom with which we were born, the vast unfolding display of primordial richness, primordial openness, primordial wisdom itself. When one thought has ended and another has not yet begun, we can rest in that space.

He ordered a cup of tea and two biscuits for five pence and thought of nothing.—Oh, but that's impossible.—It's not possible to think of nothing. Certainly it was unprofessional of Fred, who was paid by the university to use his mind, and unwise of him as a lover, but there it was, he was occupied with bitter sensations, giving way to stupefaction, then to emptiness.

Don't think about it. However it was it is over now. However it was or whereever it was. He is not lying there any more. He is nowhere now. Nowhere at all. Don't think about it.

the trouble was he had nothing to say, but he loved saying it.

Tirámos fotografias desse tempo em que os filhos de um e de outro com respectivas proles estiveram reunidos em férias na Itália. Fotografias que agora preenchem vazios.

These of us who have risen highest merely have a deeper awareness of how uncertain and empty everything is.

Elly's eyes were huge and her mouth was open and she was clutching her hands over her chest. Her mouth was moving but he couldn't hear what she was saying. She looked weirdly pale, even her clothes. "Elly?" She held out her hands. As she was about to touch him, her fingers became foggy tendrils. He could see right through her, as if she had turned to mist. "Elly?" he said. He reached out for her, but she was gone.

He had created a desert, and called it peace.

The camera observed me, but there was nothing in my bag except a pashmina, purse, and Lorazepam. I carried emptiness. Doors opened. Another camera recorded my progress. Doubtless there were thousands of my days repeated thus, interred digitally in limbo. I ascended two steps with nothing to look forward to

The sea looks the same after the boats are gone.

Vacío, tú eres mi verdad, mi bienamado eres.»

Our only qualification for God's grace is our emptiness, not our fullness; our undeservingness, not our deservingness. 'Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous but the sinners.' (Mk 2:17). Similarly, on an infinitely lower level, this book is for empty hearts, not full ones.

We were family," Cass said softly. "We were all we had. And now we have nothing.

At the gaping, empty space.

Just goes to show how life leaks away when you ain't paying attention. One day you look up, look around, and the world is empty. Not empty exactly but something is wrong, there ain't no color left to life." outraged, he glared at Lucius. "Watsons long gone and Coxes moved away, Burdetts and Betheas, too. Ain't none of them good old families left. Died out or gone off to the cities, gone away like they was never here at all.

made all our hopes and struggles in this world simply ridiculous for the fundamental reason that our precious human life, for all its joys, was blood-soaked, cruel, and empty, with only sorrow, fear, disease at its dark end, fading to nothingness. Staring back at him, I thought, Was this a society of human beings or some purgatory where folks was condemned to live their lives with a laughing killer loose amongst them like a wolf?

Why, he wondered, does a phone call to a distant loved one only intensify the emptiness and loneliness you were feeling before you called?

Fool, he told himself. He had been looking for Keith Rothwell in Robert Calvert's flat. But he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere; he was just a slab of chilled meat waiting for a man with his collar on the wrong way around to chant a few meaningless words that might just ease the living's fear of death until the next time it touched too close to home for comfort.

God, how dark it is here, and totally silent. Nothing but me lives in this vacuum.

the dead stones, the dust-stricken weeds dry and dying, perceived nothing, recollected nothing, about him or themselves.