Loneliness Quotes - Page 9

Blood shall drop out of wood, and the stone shall give his voice, and the people shall be troubled:

This life-enhancing, happiness-inducing miracle drug that does, in fact, ruthlessly kill its enemies—you’ve guessed it—is gratitude.

But if as you read this book you're saying to yourself: "I'd rather be miserably married than be alone." Well young lady, take out your clown shoes and buckle your seat belt - it's going to be a very bumpy one-woman circus.

Nobody should have to choose between a cold heart and a dead heart.

Be VERY careful of who or what you entertain when you’re bored. Boredom can get you caught up in some foul stuff. Trust!

There never can be a man so lost as one who is lost in the vast and intricate corridors of his own lonely mind, where none may reach and none may save.

Books make the best ersatz friendships.

The dead are my dark matter, filling up impalpably the empty spaces of the world.

The only goal in life is to be happy, genuinely, intensely and consistently , regardless of what it looks like to others.

She thought it must be a lonely life for a boy who hated books.

She was like a lone angel floating above the surface of the earth, laughing with delight because she could fly but crying out of loneliness.

The only difference between success and failure is Lack of Vision

She was completely alone in the world. There was no one at all for her. No one in the world who cared whether she lived or died. Sometimes the horror of that thought threatened to overwhelm her and plunge her down into a bottomless darkness from which there would be no return. If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?

If we try to see something positive in everything we do, life won't necessarily become easier but it becomes more valuable.

She saw that he knew what loneliness was, that he understood why it might be raining inside a person even when the sun shone, that sadness needed no immediate cause.

The only principle which will make you more content, less bitter is to live a life that has "Less excuses, more results. Less distraction, more focus. Less me, more we. Live with "Gratitude" not with "Greytitude

Contemplation and writing demand solitude, which leads to a sorry feeling of isolation and detachment. Writers try to call their loneliness genius, and the world believes them most of the time.

There comes a time when loneliness is stronger than fear.

I know in a way I never knew before that there is nowhere for me to go, nothing for me to do, and no one for me to know. The voice in my head keeps reciting these old principles of mine. The voice is his voice, and the voice is also my voice. And there are other voices, voices I have never heard before, voices that seem to be either dead or dying in a great moonlit darkness. More than ever, some sort of new arrangement seems in order, some dramatic and unknown arrangement -- anything to find release from this heartbreaking sadness I suffer every minute of the day (and night), this killing sadness that feels as if it will never leave me no matter where I go or what I do or whom I may ever know.

Man's loneliness is but his fear of life.

Companionship is a foreign concept to some people. They fear it as much as the majority of people fear loneliness.

Blessed with so many resources within myself the world was not necessary to me. I could do very well without it.

What will he then do unto his name whereby we are called? ...of these things have I asked.

Then -- they saw the Groke. Everybody saw her. She sat motionless on the sandy path at the bottom of the steps and stared at them with round, expressionless eyes.She was not particularly big and didn't look dangerous either, but your let that she was terribly evil and would wait for ever. And that was awful.Nobody plucked up enough courage to attack. She sat there for a while, and then slid away into the darkness. But where she had been sitting the ground was frozen!

When was it I realized that, on this truly dark and solitary path we all walk, the only way we can light is our own? Although I was raised with love, I was always lonely.Someday, without fail, everyone will disappear, scattered into the blackness of time.

All that he had of her was his memory, where he held every moment, every single moment that she had been his. That was all he had, to keep out the loneliness.

Maybe all that silence about my brother did something to me. I think it did. Not talking can make a guy pretty lonely

Now Doon seemed to care for his new friends more than he did for her. Every time she thought about him she felt a thud of pain, like a bruised place inside her.

It was almost May. I knew that New York was getting warm now, that London was wet, that Rome was hot -- and I was on Vieques, where it was always hot and where New York and London and Rome were just names on a map.

I was in awe of the mystery of human compassion and the inability of love to make the distance between us any more bearable.

I spent the rest of the day in someone else's story. The rare moments that I put the book down, my own pain returned in burning stabs.

Connection is life; disconnection, death.

It's sad that in a world of billions, people can still feel isolated and alone. Sometimes all it takes to brighten up someone's day is a smile or kind word, or the generous actions of a complete stranger. Small things, the tiny details, these are the things that matter in life — the little glint in the eye, curve of a lip, nod of a head, wave of a hand — such minuscule movements have huge ripple effects.

I lend everyone my ear,But nobody my heart,And I sure would like to change that,But I don't know where to start,I smile more to myself,Than the world will ever see,Because the only time my smile is real,Is in my own company,People don't know how I feel,They never even ask,It seems I have fooled them all,They can't see past my mask,If they were with me late at night,When the world was still asleep,Maybe I'd let them sort,Through the secrets that I keep,But when I wake at 2am,Nobody is ever there,And I learnt that why I hide my heart,Is because no-one really cares.

If you want to miss your crown, follow the crowd. If you want to wear the crown, go alone and be yourself.

What man is able to do that, that thou should ask such things of me?

Sitting in a corner, I live like a toad Oh! How I love my room: my tiny abode! Here I wake up; and I sleep in hereThe world far away; yet virtually near Not that I'm jailed in this place of graceJust don't want to face another face

She cured me of my sadness.

Don't confuse love with the fear of being lonely...

As she looks through the window; while seeing him give her his world, tears rolled down her cheeks in remembrance of the world she once had.

indelible waitingl'art poetique"..I will wait for the night to chase me..."I sit on a rock and watch children playingin the park belowThey don't see meOr know my thoughtsOr that you haven't calledBut I forgive them their indifference todayAbove me a crow cawsPerhaps he smells the crumbs on my dressOr my angerBut he flits away over the treesProbably has a homeProbably has a wifeProbably knew to callThe children leaveThe coffee in my can turns coldThe wind nips at meSome street lights flicker onBut I won't moveNot yetI will wait for the night to chase meBack where I came fromUp the empty streetTo a quiet house

Time don't have heart emotions and feelings

Thou art sore troubled in mind for the people in the world’s sake: loves thou that people better than he that made them?

He could have been invisible and it wouldn’t have made a difference to them. He didn’t care, so long as he felt at ease, which was his original intention. He wasn’t there to make friends, nor did he want to.

Why the law of our forefathers are brought to nought, and the written covenants come to none effect-

You are helpful, and you are loved, and you are forgiven, and you are not alone.

Sometimes the sound of silence is the most deafening sound of all.

It's the place built out of Man's ceaseless failure to overcome himself. Out of Man's endless war against himself we build our successes as well as our failures. Making it the city of all cities most like Man himself— loneliest creation of all this very old poor earth.

It is as great a thing to love as it is to be loved. Love is not something that can be wasted.

Great growth comes from loneliness. You have time to develop, dwell in your own mind and go a bit mad. All great people are a bit mad. That’s good to remember. Don’t escape it. Great growth comes from time spent in foreign lands, watching foreign people with foreign cultures. It makes you forget about your own land and race and town for a while. Great growth also comes from rooting yourself into one place from time to time. Unpack your bags, get a nice bed, a book shelf, some friends. Learn to show up, keep in touch, stick around. Growth comes in all sort of forms and shapes, everywhere at all times, and it’s yours to take and consume. Do what ought to be done. Here and now, to get you somewhere — anywhere.

We all need something to believe in. Without those beliefs we're just floating particles moving through the space time continuum.

The man who fears to be alone will never be anything but lonely, no matter how much he may surround himself with people. But the man who learns, in solitude and recollection, to be at peace with his own loneliness, and to prefer its reality to the illusion of merely natural companionship, comes to know the invisible companionship of God. Such a one is alone with God in all places, and he alone truly enjoys the companionship of other men, because he loves them in God in Whom their presence is not tiresome, and because of Whom his own love for them can never know satiety.

For all her culture's attention to the physical, it seemingly has little to salve the creatural anguish of losing someone else's body, their touch, their heat, their oceanic heart...she doesn't want another body, she wants the body she loved, the forceps scar across his cheek that she traced with her hand, his penis, its elegant sweep to the side, the preternaturally soft skin. One wants what one has loved, not the idea of love.

Human beings must love something, and, in the dearth of worthier objectsof affection, I contrived to find a pleasure in loving and cherishing afaded graven image, shabby as a miniature scarecrow. It puzzles me nowto remember with what absurd sincerity I doated on this little toy, halffancying it alive and capable of sensation. I could not sleep unless it wasfolded in my night-gown; and when it lay there safe and warm, I wascomparatively happy, believing it to be happy likewise.

People who live in the night are acquainted with all kinds of quiet. There’s quiet enough to hear the distant traffic. Quiet enough to hear your breathing. Quiet enough to hear a lover’s heartbeat. There’s please-god-don’t-let-me-die quiet, and can’t-remember-her-name quiet. Is-he-lying quiet and can’t-make-rent quiet. There’s the quiet that inspires poets, and quiet that torments the lonely.

We seek out other people to fight off the loneliness but it's like we're children playing at pretend. We are alone in everything we do, Livy. Alone but not without company.

We shall find true happiness once you have learnt to accept your loneliness.

You stayed strong in those moments of your life. You were alone. You battled loneliness. And you somehow discovered your inner calm and survived!Now you deserve the happiness that you have been denying yourself for so long. Enjoy the moment. You are getting closer to realising your dreams!

They that be born in the strength of youth are of one fashion, and they that are born in the time of age, when the womb fail, are otherwise.

All I have is me, myself and I and we are all getting really tired of each other.