Quotes About Emptiness

Cuando te acaricié me dí cuenta que había vivido toda mi vida con las manos vacías.

Where can you go from nowhere, except deeper into nowhere?

Isabel's indelible absence is now an organ in our bodies whose sole function is a continuous secretion of sorrow.

I've lived to bury my desires and see my dreams corrode with rust now all that's left are fruitless fires that burn my empty heart to dust. Struck by the clouds of cruel fate My crown of Summer bloom is sere Alone and sad, I watch and wait And wonder if the end is near. As conquered by the last cold air When Winter whistles in the wind Alone upon a branch that's bare A trembling leaf is left behind.

You were dead.' She said. 'And in the whole world there was nothing beautiful left.

Then what is there for you? What is there for you if he does not love you?" Nothing.

I knew something about loneliness, knew what it was to sit in my room, checking my phone for texts that never came, logging onto Facebook to see other people's statuses, happy statuses indicating their lives had gone on while mine hadn't.

The days after that, I felt so many different things, sad, angry. Guilty, but for the mostly just numb, like part of me was dead.

When he left us, he stole all the words.

Being alone could sometimes feel terribly empty...

Sunyata, in contrast to rupa, is the realm of pure spirituality, hovering beyond everything material. It's quiet, pure, empty. It's the nothingness that seems to be at the core of subatomic particles; it's the big blank that's left at the moment of death.

I don't know. I got nothing. No house, no people, no place. Maybe that's troubles. Don't I say?

And while it never felt like love or community, it had almost felt like not being alone.

I always feel how necessary you are to me. But when you are absent, I become still more sensible of it and look around in vain for that satisfaction which you alone can bestow.

great things may come from moments of nothingness.

It is with narrow-souled people as with narrow-necked bottles: the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring it out.

Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine; Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored; Light dies before thy uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all.

I have outlasted all desire, My dreams and I have grown apart; My grief alone is left entire, The gleamings of an empty heart. The storms of ruthless dispensation Have struck my flowery garland numb, I live in lonely desolation And wonder when my end will come. Thus on a naked tree-limb, blasted By tardy winter's whistling chill, A single leaf which has outlasted Its season will be trembling still.

But you know who you are when you're on your own out there in all that emptiness. There's no past, no holding on to the scraps that are all you've got left. Everything is this minute, or maybe tomorrow, not yesterday.

I think I've been broken for a long time. I've lived with this hole in my chest for so long I got used to it.

We are a short poem in a endless emptiness page, words are lighthouses that ignites and struggle to deliver light to the dark edges of the infinite, and mystic sounds struggle to give voice to the unlived beings, to bore a young soul to the gate of birth.

Gone — flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.

You pigs, you. You rut like pigs, is all. You got the most in you, and you use the least. You hear me, you? Got a million in you and spend pennies. Got a genius in you and think crazies. Got a heart in you and feel empties. All a you. Every you...

My heart, still full of her, traveled over her face, and found her there no more... I had thought to myself that a woman unknown had adopted by chance that voice and those eyes and I let the chilly statue pass looking athe skies