Quotes About Emptiness

That hole she had at the base of her belly must appear so useless to her; a prick can always be cut off, but how do you forget the emptiness of a vagina?

In this apartment, as in his whole life now, he knew he would always feel as though he were staying in a hotel.

Certains lundis de la toute fin novembre, ou du début de décembre, surtout lorsqu'on est célibataire, on a la sensation d'être dans le couloir de la mort. Les vacances d'été sont depuis longtemps oubliées, la nouvelle année est encore loin ; la proximité du néant est inhabituelle.

No temáis a la felicidad: no existe.

vie en elle-même ne comporte pas

Wydr??y?em dziurk? w piasku, wsun??em tam oba dzie?a; teraz problem polega? na tym, ?e musia?em poszuka? sobie czego? do czytania. Zycie bez czytania jest niebezpieczne, trzeba zadowoli? si? samym ?yciem, a to niesie ze sob? pewne ryzyko.

Pero en realidad no hay nada que impida el regreso, cada vez más frecuente, de esos momentos en que tu absoluta soledad, la sensación de vacuidad universal, el presentimiento de que tu vida se acerca a un desastre doloroso y definitivo, se conjugan para hundirte en un estado de verdadero sufrimiento. Y, sin embargo, todavía no tienes ganas de morir.

That night, the three of us slept, arms wrapped around each other, on the double bed, though nothing sexual happened. As though we simply needed to protect ourselves; as though we could feel some dark presence, some evil subterranean force moving about the island.

Certains lundis de la toute fin novembre, ou du début de décembre, surtout lorsqu'on est célibataire, on a la sensation d'être dans le couloir de la mort. Les vacances d'été sont depuis longtemps oubliées, la nouvelle année est encore loin ; la proximité du néant est inhabituelle." Incipit

Cuando muere lo más puro Cualquier gozo se invalida Queda el pecho como hueco, Y hay sombras por donde mires.

At this moment, Paul was hungry. He would go home, it was the only right thing to do, he said to himself before he realized there was nothing to eat at home, that the shelf in the refrigerator reserved for him would be despairingly empty, and that the very expression "home" was a testament of unreasonable optimism.

At times, too, I've had the impression that I'd manage to feel quite at home in a life of vacuity. That the relatively painless boredom would enable me to go on making the usual gestures of life. Another big mistake. Prolonged boredom is not tenable as a position: sooner or later it is transformed into feelings that are acutely more painful, of true pain; this is precisely what's happening to me.

Il sut immédiatement que cet univers ralenti, marqué par la honte, où les êtres se croisent dans un vide sidéral, sans qu'aucun rapport entre eux n'apparaisse jamais possible, correspondait exactement à son univers mental.

Anything can happen in life, especially nothing.

I've lived so little that I tend to imagine I'm not going to die; it seems improbable that human existence can be reduced to so little; one imagines, in spite of oneself, that sooner or later something is bound to happen. A big mistake. A life can just as well be both empty and short. The days slip by indifferently, leaving neither trace nor memory; and then all of a sudden they stop.

Et le croisement de ces mains de vieillards fortes et usées était comme le signe d'un ancien pacte renouvelé trop tard, à présent sans autre objet qu'un rêve à l'agonie. Un pacte d'amour gratuit cerné par le néant.

Hollywood is like being nowhere and talking to nobody about nothing.

Michelangelo Antonioni

All the while, she understood that nothing could save her from the emptiness of the years that still had to be lived. Days passed, and weeks, and no one said her name.

Fear is the loneliest feeling. You can be in a throng of people, but if you're afraid, you're on your own.

A sob caught in my chest. I didn't even know what a gray was, other than a drab color. All I knew was that I was hungry all the time. And I knew, deep down, that it wasn't just for food.

It felt as if things were literally slipping through my fingers. Things were just streaming away from me. I lost my sense of humor. I'm still looking for that.

And so the months and the years have gone by, but little has turned out well for me. Each new year in turn has failed to bring happiness. Indeed, as I think of the unsatisfying events I have recorded here, I wonder whether I have been describing anything of substance. Call it, this journal of mine, a shimmering of the summer sky.

Deprived of our memories we are deprived of our very selves. Without our histories we are vacated. We may walk and talk and eat and sleep but, in truth, we are nobody.