Best 2736 quotes in «loneliness quotes» category

Memories of the past are what drive us, whether to a life of beauty or a life of insanity is up to us.

mi rostro? un cero disimulado..

Min mors sorg var primitiv og altomfattende: Den sugede ilten ud af luften. En tung, bedøvet fornemmelse fyldte mit hoved og min krop hver gang jeg kom hjem. Ingen af os – hverken min bror eller jeg selv, og da slet ikke min mor – fandt trøst i hinandens selskab. Vi var bare i eksil sammen, fanget i en fælles lidelse. For første gang var jeg bevidst om, at jeg blev grebet af åndelig ensomhed, og jeg kiggede ud på gaden, vendte mig mod de drømmende og melankolske indre anelser, der var blevet den eneste lindring fra det jeg hurtigt opfattede som en tilstand af tab og nederlag.

Mistasinon stood as the music of life flowed around him, the instrument of his agency muted.

MISUNDERSTANDING" arises only when you see the things with Closed Eyes

Modern life seems set up so that we can avoid loneliness at all costs, but maybe it's worthwhile to face it occasionally. The further we push aloneness away, the less we are able to cope with it, and the more terrifying it gets. Some philosophers believe that loneliness is the only true feeling there is.

Modern life seems set up so that we can avoid loneliness at all costs, but maybe it's worthwhile to face it occasionally. The further we push aloneness away, the less are we able to cope with it, and the more terrifying it gets. Some philosophers believe that loneliness is the only true feeling there is. We live orphaned on a tiny rock in the immense vastness of space, with no hint of even the simplest form of life anywhere around us for billions upon billions of miles, alone beyond all imagining. We live locked in our own heads and can never entirely know the experience of another person. Even if we're surrounded by family and friends, we journey into death completely alone.

More than anything else, I wanted not to be alone — yet all my actions guaranteed I’d be lonely. Like wearing a vest of explosives when you’re coming in for a hug, insatiable need is a form of sabotage.

Most days, I’ve got this impermanence thing down just great. It doesn’t bother me; what’s to bother? Most days, I sit comfortably with the knowledge that I’ll die alone, and I feel nothing so strongly as my embrace of my nothingness. Most days don’t really matter, because there is only this day, and right now I feel like fear is all I am. I don’t want you to leave. Just let me pretend you won’t.' He wrapped his arms around me and we slept. For that night, we would last forever.

Mostly she just missed Vaughn. Missed all those quiet, unspectacular moments that, when added up, showed how entwined their lives had become. And right now, she missed being able to phone him, because it would be so easy to tap in the eleven digits that would put his voice on the line. ‘Grace, about bloody time,’ he’d say, and make it sound like an endearment. But she couldn’t call Vaughn, because she’d left him. Which was a novelty, until Grace remembered that he’d have left her eventually if she hadn’t done it first. She was never the one. She was never even the one before the one. She was the girl who seemed like a good idea at the time, but ultimately was just a phase that people went through. That was the way it had always been. Friends and lovers came and went because there was something about her which repelled them, and she didn’t have a clue what it was. It was a mystery that she couldn’t solve on her own, and there wasn’t a single person in the world who could help . . .

Most love songs were inspired, not by love, but by loneliness, regretfulness, or horniness.

Most of her friends owned laptops and seemed to spend more time with their phones than anything else. Steffy kept her latest playlists and apps updated frequently. She was a member of what Peter called, The Gadget Generation. She could not imagine what it must have been like before such a time. The unbearable isolation that must have been present. How did people deal with it? When she asked a few older people in the town, they simply said she had too much spare time on her hands. It appeared thinking was a crime in the world she lived

Most of us do things for reasons that are more purely personal. For love, or for hate.

Most of us are so enthralled with the scary tigers in our minds--our stories of loneliness, rejection, grief--that we don't realize they are in the past. They can't hurt us anymore.

Most of the conversations we are ever likely to have with people are the things we do not and cannot say

Most people never realize that loneliness is a gift from God. Not only can it draw us closer to Jesus, it can teach us to cherish a long-awaited marriage relationship all the more.

Mr. Knightley to be no longer coming there for his evening comfort! - No longer walking in at all hours, as if ever willing to change his own home for their's! - How was it to be endured?

Music is what is left when everyone is not around.

My aunt must have been perfectly well aware that she would not see Swann again, that she would never leave her own house any more, but this ultimate seclusion seemed to be accepted by her with all the more readiness for the very reason which, to our minds, ought to have made it more unbearable; namely, that such a seclusion was forced upon her by the gradual and steady diminution in her strength which she was able to measure daily, which, by making every action, every movement 'tiring' to her if not actually painful, gave to inaction, isolation and silence the blessed, strengthening and refreshing charm of repose.

My father moved out a week later. I hugged him at our front door and couldn't bear to watch him leave with so much luggage.

My aloneness had never bothered me; I hadn't even been aware of it. But now it overwhelmed me. The awareness washed over me with painful sharpness and deep grief. Now that I had company.

My desperation is deliberate. Despondency's a pheromone.

music heals the loneliness but healing loneliness isn't healing pain

My earnest desire for you has brought me to a point, where the life I've imagined we shall have, seems like a distant memory.

My first impression of [Patricia Highsmith] was a loneliness, a sadness in one so young (we were both in our early thirties) with absolutely no sense of joy or balance. Gauche to an extreme, really physically clumsy as well as boyish, it was almost impossible to put her at ease. It was as if she felt a deep distrust of everything.

My fear of loneliness is like a disease.

My grandfather had been the ugliest, darkest, foulest, most depraved figure of my childhood, more beast than human, and I had grown up to be him, locked in the basement with my secrets as the rest of the family reveled in the petty and ordinary upstairs. Down there, I saw my black, ancient, ineluctable core exposed, like a crab forced out of its shell--dirty, vulnerable, and obscene. For the first time in my life, I was truly alone.

My eyes fluttered. I coughed up some blood. And I laughed, mocking myself, mocking my own adventure. THE GIANT was simply a story. I was alone. A long time passed. A splashing of footsteps. Then, two enormous hands. With effort, they pulled my body from the pavement. My limbs were heavy.

my heart, sometimes singing in the afternoon, the most haunting song of solitude

My hearts been fleeting up so high,I'm longing for the leaps of the day & heaps of the night to pace my soul with a subtle sublimity of myth.

My lips have touched more bottles than lovers and I'm half a shot away from psychotic.

My intention had not been to find her, for I had been busy being lonely with someone else.

My homesickness is a tangible thing, like a cannon ball of sadness, just pushing into my heart.

My loneliness was an important part of my own little universe, not some pathological disease that needs to be gotten [sic] rid of.

My loneliness was not making me depressed, rather it was making me liberated!

My main goal is to stay alive. To keep fooling myself into hanging around. To keep getting up every day. Right now I live without inspiration. I go day to day and do the work because it's all I know. I know that if I keep moving I stand a chance. I must keep myself going until I find a reason to live. I need one so bad. On the other hand maybe I don't. Maybe it's all bullshit. Nothing I knew from my old life can help me here. Most of the things that I believed turned out to be useless. Appendages from someone else's life. Everything I have I would give to not know what I know. To not feel emptiness as my constant companion. To not look into this room and be reminded why I'm in it. I'm not getting enough air. The room feels so small all of a sudden. It's pathetic to be this lonely and know it. To keep breathing. To be silent and alone. And to know.

My loneliness taught me a thing which is too appreciable! The people for whom we think that they can help us while we need them, they just kicked a rough comment over the situation and say "Sorry".

My loneliness is a choice, not a situation.

My past lives alone. That's why my loneliness wants to live in the past

My name is Jeff Witherspork. I always thought I was the only one.

My reputation is largely the creature of the kindly imaginings of my flock, whom I chose not to disillusion, in part because the truth had the kind of pathos in it that would bring on sympathy in its least bearable forms.

My wish has always been to write my own story, to create a life that’s worth writing about. But is a story worth anything at all if I have no one to tell it to?

My skin hungered for you. You were warm, and alive, and in my bed, and I wanted you so bad I could feel the ripple of need on the pads of my fingertips, on the palms of my hands, on the skin of my back, at the base of my cock, inside my ass— I wanted the taste of you in my mouth.

Namun aku terperangkap. Berada dalam lautan manusia, dikelilingi orang-orang asing. Bahkan dalam keramaian yang tak pernah surut, aku merasa jauh lebih kesepian dibanding saat aku sendirian. And when you’re lonely, you especially miss the people you no longer have.

My shadow is tired walking with me; but I have yet to be bored walking with myself, all by myself...

Na enxerga, Saraid dormia. Eile fazia o mesmo com os longos cabelos espalhados pela almofada como um rio de chamas escuras. Junto da fogueira, os homens de Pitnochie mantinham-se silenciosos, enrolados nos seus cobertores. Ninguém o ouvia; apenas as sombras.

Never allow loneliness to drive you back into the arms of someone you know you don’t belong with...

Never allow yourself to make foolish decisions because of loneliness

New York,” I have a good friend there. I found a job, a place. I had to- away from here; away from Bella; from you.” Swallowing, I clasped my hands together to stop from trembling and I said in a low, audible voice, “From me?” He sighed heavily. “I can’t love you, Helena. I still love Bella. And I suppose I could love another woman in another way at the same time, but not you.” “…but why?” I tried hard to keep my voice and gaze even. I glanced at the plain wedding ring on the third finger on his left hand, his wedding band. It was gleaming brightly in the firelight. I felt my heart plummet, like a disappointed child. Seeking the right words, he replied with a very soft voice, “It’s because I would always see you as an extension of her. I want to fall in love with you in separate way, the one that involves only us, uninfluenced by the past and our hurt. I can’t do that now and I can’t tell when I’ll be able to.

Never keep yourself alone. Keep talking to yourself. And you'll start feeling better.