Best 1659 quotes in «lonely quotes» category

I have no close friends, that is, no friends.

I held love to my cheeks like a soft blanket on a babe yet, the east wind blew and away with it, love was lost.

I did not know I was lonely, she thought, until I was no longer alone.

I just could not leave the people who ever fill my heart. But if people leave, well, like today myself. That's why I'm afraid to get acquainted with a lot of people because I'm afraid of losing a lot of people too. In reality I always get acquainted with many people, how is this?

I kept my head down, away from the biting air and the joy of the holiday. I didn't want to be reminded of Christmases past. No associations, no heartstrings snagged on a tree in a window, no memories.

I knew I’d be troubled, but who knew awhile meant forever?

I know lonely can be hard, but the longer you stay in the wrong relationship, the longer it will take for the right one to find you. Don't stay in a relationship that doesn't build you up.

I know I've got no reason to be crying; I know that there is nowhere left to run. I know that there's no reason to be hiding, I'm just mad at everyone; mad at everyone.

I know you're feeling worried, But I promise I'm okay. You think I'm missing all the fun, But I don't want to play. And I'm not feeling lonely; Yeah, I've got a friend with me. I'm just keeping this corner company.

I learned that day that there is no more lonely state than being in a lonely marriage.

I left smiles on your wordless lips The night roads- dismal and narrow, dream’s path remains shadowy wide as our lone hearts felt that arrow From the Poem 'My Tomorrow

I’ll leave it all behind until the dark takes me.

I look at old photos and it gives me joy and and tells me about the best time I spent with people but they always left a feeling of loneliness & things I missed and I don't feel connected to them at all.

I loved him the way some people are to be loved - from a distance.

I made spasmodic efforts to work, assuring myself that once I began working I would forget her. The difficulty was in beginning. There was a feeling of weakness, a sort of powerlessness now, as though I were about to be ill but was never quite ill enough, as though I were about to come down with something I did not quite come down with. It seemed to me that for the first time in my life I had been in love, and had lost, because of the grudgingness of my heart, the possibility of having what, too late, I now thought I wanted. What was it that all my life I had so carefully guarded myself against? What was it that I had felt so threatened me? My suffering, which seemed to me to be a strict consequence of having guarded myself so long, appeared to me as a kind of punishment, and this moment, which I was now enduring, as something which had been delayed for half a lifetime. I was experincing, apparently, an obscure crisis of some kind. My world acquired a tendency to crumble as easily as a soda cracker. I found myself horribly susceptible to small animals, ribbons in the hair of little girls, songs played late at night over lonely radios. It became particularly dangerous for me to go near movies in which crippled girls were healed by the unselfish love of impoverished bellhops. I had become excessively tender to all the more obvious evidences of the frailness of existence; I was capable of dissolving at the least kind word, and self-pity, in inexhaustible doses, lay close to my outraged surface. I moved painfully, an ambulatory case, mysteriously injured.

I'm always quiet. Quiet with the storms inside me.

I may be too young to be lonely, but I am too lonely to be young.

I'm bad for you. I told you I will break you and I will. I wish I knew how not to. I can't. I'm sorry. You have to take me like this...

I missed him so much that it felt like a physical pain in the area below my ribs. I opened my mouth to accommodate it. I put my hand to it. A hollow, aching, piercing place.

I’m lonely, and he can see it. Maybe everyone can see it.

I’m jealous – not of their money to spend, but jealous that, for them, going home is a simple matter of turning down the correct lane.

I'm just an insomniac struggling for a night where I don't dream of you anymore.

I'm lonely, Yes! I'm so lonely. I'm Just a sad tear that came out of the depths of pain. I have neither friend nor a lover. I live in an empty dark shell. Punctuated by the lights of my dreams. I hear a whisper. I hear an echo. Why everything I love in this world. It's expensive, or it makes me sad. Beyond my shell, there is an empty world. A world filled with hatred and lies. A world filled with vanity and treason. A world filled with injustice and selfishness. There is a noise in my silence, but I shout quietly. So as to your pure heart can hear me. I tried to escape from my bitter reality. A reality that walks against my dreams. I found out that sleep is my best shelter. Because life is easy when eyes are closed. So I give up my eyes, and went to sleep. Then suddenly! I felt a call, something tried to wake me up. I felt whispers caressing my soul. That together we stand, divided we fall. That you are the king of my thrown, And only beside you, I feel like I have everything. I love you my shell, my home.

I'm sorry for ignoring you but that's all I can do. Iloveyou

I'm Perfect With You , I'm Nothing Without You !!!

I’m sure it wasn’t easy being in your big sister’s shadow for 104 years. You complained about it a lot but I know you’d have been miserable without me. Well, I’m glad things have worked out the way they have, because you never had to be alone, Bessie Funny thing is, though, by leaving me here by myself, you're letting me get the last word. Ooooooh, I'm not sure you would have liked that! - Sarah L. Delany

I'm still looking for someone Who said they were here for me, And I thought I was once there for you. But when troubles are nearer than friends, And the road comes to an end, What could I do? I wish I could fly away like you.

In her experience, groups of friends like that just didn't open up to include underage, undersized geeks like her. They hadn't sounded mean, they just sounded — self-confident. Something she wasn't.

In a polished surface of metal I happen to notice my reflected face; it wears a pale, beaten lonely look, eyes looking out at nothing with an expression of fear, frightened and lonely in a nightmare world. Something, I don’t know what, makes me think of my childhood; I remember myself as a schoolchild sitting at a hard wooden desk, and then as a little girl with thick, fair, wind-tossed hair, feeding the swans in a park. And it seems both strange and sad to me that all those childish years were spent in preparation for this – that, forgotten by everybody, with a beaten face, I should serve machinery in a place far away from the sun.

I realized that I'm lonely without her and she's incomplete without me. There will be no end to our love story..

I often choose to be alone, but I never feel lonely.

I pulled the sheet off their faces. Their faces were black with coal dust and didn't look like anything was wrong with them except they were dirty. The both of them had smiles on their faces. I thought maybe one of them had told a joke just before they died and, pain and all, they both laughed and ended up with a smile. Probably not true but but it made me feel good to think about it like that, and when the Sister came in I asked her if I could clean their faces and she said, "no, certainly not!" but I said, "ah, c'mon, it's me brother n' father, I want to," and she looked at me and looked at me, and at last she said, "of course, of course, I'll get some soap and water." When the nun came back she helped me. Not doing it, but more like showing me how, and taking to me, saying things like "this is a very handsome man" and "you must have been proud of your brother" when I told her how Charlie Dave would fight for me, and "you're lucky you have another brother"; of course I was, but he was younger and might change, but she talked to me and made it all seem normal, the two of us standing over a dead face and cleaning the grit away. The only other thing I remember a nun ever saying to me was, "Mairead, you get to your seat, this minute!

I no more count my wasted tears; Nor can I hear the echo of their fall; No more do I mourn my lonely years; This hour is blessed and this is certainly my call.

In some ways, I am able to feel more like a part of my family while I am missing them. It's normal to feel lonely when you are away from your loved ones, but it's queer to feel lonely while surrounded by family.

I remember seeing this video for the first time in college - miserable, half-drunk on Keystone Light, a Camel Light smoldering in my mouth, about to desperately tap-dance my way through another social interaction - and saying out loud: "I fucking *get* you, Bee Girl.

I shall not be lonely. No one who reads is ever that.

I seek the city because there is nothing sweeter than not being alone in your loneliness.

I think there is a difference between aloneness and loneliness. Aloneness is necessary for the soul to thrive - even to come alive. Not loneliness.

Is there anything so empty as something that's once been full?

It doesn't mean anything; It doesn't change anything, Except the way I see myself, And it's not supposed to do that. I shouldn't feel this way; I should cry this way, But I kind of do. Yeah, I kind of do.

I thought the love I'd had for him belonged to the past, to the foolish, lonely girl I never wanted to be again. I'd tried to bury that girl and the love she'd felt, just as I'd tried to bury my power. But I wouldn't make that mistake again.

I, sometimes, fear that probably I'll just keep changing cities, and may be someday I'll also travel the world, but never find another soul who thinks exactly the way I do.

I suppose there has been nothing like the airports since the age of the stage-stops - nothing quite as lonely, as sombre-silent. The red-brick depots were built right into the towns they marked - people didn't get off at those isolated stations unless they lived there. But airports lead you way back in history like oases, like the stops on the great trade routes. The sight of air travellers strolling in ones and twos into midnight airports will draw a small crowd any night up or two. The young people look at the planes, the older ones look at the passengers with a watchful incredulity.

It feels less lonely knowing that when I look up at the sky, someone somewhere is looking too. And maybe, just maybe, they are also at peace knowing that they are not alone as we are one under the same sky.

I think I will always be the little girl with her nose pressed against the fence, waiting to be taken into the game.

I think that is supposed to be good, that I get less from him but I feel worth less.

I thought of the cool, fresh air of the city I'd always dreamed of living in. The art museums and trolleys and the mysterious fog that blanketed it. I could almost smell the cappuccinos I'd planned to drink in bohemian cafes or hear the indie music in the bookstores I would spend my free time in. I pictured the friends I'd make, my kindred art people, and the dorm room I was supposed to move into.

I thought that if I owned nothing, had nothing, was nothing, I would have nothing left to lose, and I wouldn't be scared anymore. Because my whole life I’ve been so damn scared. Scared to live because I was scared to die. But at the same I was so scared of living, so I wanted to die. Or maybe so scared of dying that I refused to live. You don't have to be afraid to fall, when you're already on the ground. You don't have to be scared to lose someone, when there's no one around to lose.

It is a lonely thing, remembering for someone else.

It makes a soul lonely when even your tongue has no home.