Quotes About Emptiness

What will happen when there are no more pages in the red notebook?

In the interim, in the void between the moment he opens the door and the moment he begins to reconquer the emptiness, his mind flails in a wordless panic. It is as if he were being forced to watch his own disappearance, as if, by crossing the threshold of his room, he were entering another dimension, taking up residence inside a black hole.

Is that what we mean by life? Let everything fall away, and then let's see what there is. Perhaps that is the most interesting question of all: to see what happens when there is nothing, and whether or not we will survive that too.

Every morning he would go to sleep telling himself that he had had enough, that there would be no more of it, and every afternoon he would wake up with the same desire, the same irresistible urge to crawl back into the car. He wanted that solitude again, that nightlong rush through the emptiness, that rumbling of the road along his skin.

When words fail you, you dissolve into an image of nothingness. You disappear.

La única persona con la que sabía cómo comportarme era conmigo mismo; pero verdaderamente yo ya no era nadie, no estaba realmente vivo. Sólo era alguien que fingía estar vivo, un muerto que

Ogni giorno è la stessa battaglia, lo stesso senso di vuoto, lo stesso desiderio di dimenticare e poi di non dimenticare. Quando ciò accade, è perché si è a questo punto, è solo quando si è toccato questo limite la penna comincia a scrivere. La storia inizia e si ferma, va avanti e poi si perde e, in mezzo a ogni parola, quanti silenzi, quante parole sfuggono e svaniscono per non essere mai più ritrovate.

There's a certain quixotic calm to an empty school hallway.

My friend Graeme Wood, a journalist who has written extensively about ISIS, including a book based on interviews with both new recruits and long-standing members, tells me that many of those who joined the group were jaded when they signed up. They've had a lot of anonymous sex, they've taken every drug there is, they've lived lives of empty pleasure. But this wasn't enough. They were looking for more, something of real value.

Someone once had said to her that the sky hides the night behind it, shelters the person beneath from the horror that lies above. Unblinking, she fixed the solid emptiness, and the anguish began to move in her. At any moment the rip can occur, the edges fly back, and the giant maw will be revealed.

If we search into the innermost part of our self, we come in the end to an utter void where nothing from the outside world can reflect itself, to a divine stillness where no image and no form can be active. This is the essence of our being. This is the true Spirit.

I know, I know and you know, we knew, we did not know, we were there, after all, and not there and at times when only the void stood between us we got all the way to each other.

What is that lie? It is the lie that was first told in the garden of Eden—the false promise that life, heart-satisfying life, could be found somewhere outside the Creator. It is the lie of lies, the cruelest lie ever told. If you believe it, it will not only leave you empty and discouraged, but it will set your life on a course of destruction.

say "From nothing comes nothing - Nihil ex nihilo!

The most terrifying thing I can think of is being alone - and I mean utterly alone, like no one else in the world alone - at night. That's the nucleus of the first story in my collection and it's also where the title came from for the book.

Apart from God, life is empty and unsatisfying. D

Sin alma o corazón.

What really drives us to seek help is an equally frightening sensation: that of being alive, yet not really living.

Having without having: it's possible, isn't it, that that's worse than not having at all?

Still, for all that, her life had lacked passion. The demons had never come for her.

You can be with somebody and still feel alone.

Imagine feeling empty, virtually without a self. Now think about admitting that what little self you can recognize has something wrong with it. To many people with BPD, this is like ceasing to exist—a terrifying feeling for anyone.

People with BPD look to others to provide things they find difficult to supply for themselves, such as self-esteem, approval, and a sense of identity. Most of all, they are searching for a nurturing caregiver whose never-ending love and compassion will fill the black hole of emptiness and despair inside them.

As I write this entry in my diary, I myself feel like a diary which has been left out in the rain, from which the moisture has washed away the cramped inky writing, the record of thousands of days and nights, leaving only a blank and sodden page.