Quotes About Emptiness

The house was quiet when he got inside. Why wouldn't it be? He was alone.

Being this close to her silence is like my heart breaking all over the place. I can feel it, like it's pulling me down into a bottomless pit, like it's calling for me to just fall and fall and fall.

He really is alone in whatever hell this is. Completely and utterly alone. 'It isn't,' he thinks, as he trudges back toward his house, 'the most unfamiliar feeling in the world.

He looks up and the loss in his Noise is so great it feels like i'm standing on the edge of an Abyss, that I'm about to fall down into him, into blackness so empty and lonely there'd never be a way out.

He knew she wouldn't be in there – he couldn't hear the kettle boiling, which she always did first thing – but he'd found himself asking for her a lot lately when he entered rooms in the house.

I'm too busy repeatedly counting ketchup bottles and wishing I was dead, wishing I was dead, wishing I was dead, wishing I was dead.

And the pain is too much it's too much it's too much and my hands are on my head and I'm rearing back and my mouth is open in a never-ending wordless wail of all the blackness that's inside of me.

For Rachel, it might have even been worse, because she had known the rules for a long time, had thrived on them, and had maybe now - if her equally unprecedented lunch outburst was anything to go by - found them empty.

Drew missed Peter when he left, but it was like missing a hole.

My heart is broken, broken in a way that will never be healed, broken in a way that feels like it's going to kill me, too, right here on this stupid, freezing beach

Clap your hands if you believe in death. Believing in fairies is much easier, I think. Death is an end, an emptiness, a darkness. People want to believe in the light. Go to the light, they say. We fear the darkness and the unknown, the fairies in the ravine, the world behind the mirror.

But how awful would that be? How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough?

She felt ... less. She felt tamped down. Dim. More faint. Feint. Feigned. Fain.

Absence feeds affection.

She felt flat and scraped as an old hide. Dry as paper written on both sides.

Auri merely stood there for a long moment. She thought that she might cry, but when she felt around inside herself she found she had no crying left. She was full of broken glass and burrs.

Otras veces se había quedado así, vacía como una cáscara de huevo. Hueca y con sensación de presión en el pecho en una oscuridad furiosa, la primera vez que le había oído tocar. Antes de que él le regalara su nuevo nombre, dulce y perfecto. Un trozo de sol que nunca la abandonaba. Era un bocado de pan. Una flor en su corazón.

Sentirse solo era terrible.

Me parece a mí que uno necesita algo para ser feliz, y yo no tengo nada.

Así que, sí, hasta cierto punto aquellas dos cosas bastarían para fabricar jabón. Pero ¿no sería espantoso? ¿No sería terrible vivir rodeada de la descarnada y cruda vacuidad de las cosas que, sencillamente, bastaban para algo?

when she felt around inside herself she found she had no crying left. She was full of broken glass and burrs.

As he sorted and packed, the red-haired man seemed content. But if you looked more closely you might have noticed that while his hands were busy, his eyes were far away. And while his expression was composed, pleasant even, there was no joy in it. He did not hum or whistle while he worked. He did not sing.

El silencio más obvio era una calma hueca y resonante, constituida por las cosas que faltaban

How terrible to be surrounded by the stark sharp hollowness of things that simply were enough.