Loniliness Quotes
Quotes tagged as "loniliness"
Showing 1-17 of 17

“And I thought: if I feel single, wouldn't it be easier to be single? And then I wouldn't have to worry about disappointing someone or someone disappointing me? When I'm single, I know where I am. I am alone when I'm ill, but I'm not abandoned.”
― Good Material
― Good Material

“Selfish people also tend to have victim mindsets… Their actions plant seeds of loneliness; then they cry upon the blooming.”
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“This time around I was so lonely that I was forced to be face to face with myself. Realizing at the end of the day I only have me and I didn't seem to like my own company. I decided to I had to make myself into someone I can live with.”
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“I wake up, I feel the inescapable oppression of the sunlight pouring through my bedroom window, and I am struck by the fact that I am alone. And that everyone is alone. And that everything I understood seven hours ago has already changed, and that I have to learn everything again.”
― Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto
― Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto

“If you don't know what it is you're looking for you're NEVER going to find it. You have to be clear on what it is you're seeking.”
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“My penance for barely being present in the world, not the world between the pages of books, or the layered atmosphere of my own mind, but the world that is real to others”
― M Train
― M Train

“Sì, siamo soli, profondamente soli, e in serbo per noi, sempre, c’è uno strato di solitudine ancora più profondo. Non c’è nulla che possiamo fare per liberarcene. No, la solitudine non dovrebbe stupirci, per sorprendente che possa essere farne l’esperienza. Puoi cercare di tirar fuori tutto quello che hai dentro, ma allora non sarai altro che questo: vuoto e solo anziché pieno e solo.”
― American Pastoral
― American Pastoral

“Being alone wasn't nearly as lonely as being with people who didn't love you”
― Critic's Choice
― Critic's Choice
“Because no one can make another person happy", said George. "He was happy when he was with me, but otherwise he wasn't. That's not enough. I mean, in a relationship, you have your ups and downs, sure, and you help each other through, but if a person is genuinely unhappy, it won't work. No amount of love or laughter from the other person can fix that. Each person has to love and laugh on their own They need to feel it for real, deep down, in here.”
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“What do I do now?” I ask desperately. “Tell me! What do I do now?”
He remains calm.
He looks at me closely and says, “Keep living, Ed…. It’s only the pages that stop here.”
He stays perhaps another ten minutes, probably due to the trauma that has strapped itself to me. I remain standing, trying to contemplate and recover from what’s transpired.
“I really think I’d better go,” he says again, this item with more finality.
With difficulty, I walk him to the door.
We say goodbye on the front porch, and he walks back up the street.
I wonder about his name, but I’m sure I’ll earn it soon enough.
He’s written about this, I’m sure, the bastard. All of it.
As he walks up the street he pulls a small notebook from his pocket and writes a few things down.
It makes me think maybe I should write about all this myself. After all, I;m the one who did all the work.
I’d start with the bank robbery.
Something like, “The gunman is useless.”
The odds are, however, that he’s beaten me to it already
It’ll be his name on the cover of all these words, not mine.
He’ll get all the credit.
Or the crap, if her does a shit job.
But I just remembered the I was the one- not him- who gave life to these pages. I was the one who-
I tell me to stop.
It’s an inner voice and it’s loud.
All day, I think about many things, though I try not to. I look through the folder and find everything as he said. All the ideas are written in and people are sketched. Scratchy excerpts are stapled together. Beginnings and endings merge and bend.
Hours wander past.
Days follow them.
I don’t leave the shack, and I don’t answer the phone. I barely even eat. The Doorman sits with me as the minutes pass by.
For a long time, I wonder what I’m waiting for, but I understand it’s just like he said.
I guess it’s for life beyond these pages.”
― I Am the Messenger
He remains calm.
He looks at me closely and says, “Keep living, Ed…. It’s only the pages that stop here.”
He stays perhaps another ten minutes, probably due to the trauma that has strapped itself to me. I remain standing, trying to contemplate and recover from what’s transpired.
“I really think I’d better go,” he says again, this item with more finality.
With difficulty, I walk him to the door.
We say goodbye on the front porch, and he walks back up the street.
I wonder about his name, but I’m sure I’ll earn it soon enough.
He’s written about this, I’m sure, the bastard. All of it.
As he walks up the street he pulls a small notebook from his pocket and writes a few things down.
It makes me think maybe I should write about all this myself. After all, I;m the one who did all the work.
I’d start with the bank robbery.
Something like, “The gunman is useless.”
The odds are, however, that he’s beaten me to it already
It’ll be his name on the cover of all these words, not mine.
He’ll get all the credit.
Or the crap, if her does a shit job.
But I just remembered the I was the one- not him- who gave life to these pages. I was the one who-
I tell me to stop.
It’s an inner voice and it’s loud.
All day, I think about many things, though I try not to. I look through the folder and find everything as he said. All the ideas are written in and people are sketched. Scratchy excerpts are stapled together. Beginnings and endings merge and bend.
Hours wander past.
Days follow them.
I don’t leave the shack, and I don’t answer the phone. I barely even eat. The Doorman sits with me as the minutes pass by.
For a long time, I wonder what I’m waiting for, but I understand it’s just like he said.
I guess it’s for life beyond these pages.”
― I Am the Messenger
“Solitude and loneliness are two separate things. One you choose out of wisdom, the other out of necessity.”
-Mark Miller”
―
-Mark Miller”
―
“Once someone hurts you, it's may harder to relax...If we were always looking for relaxation their is nothing to describe our situations to others....”
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“It's unsurprising that intelligent people spend the most time with themselves because, as the saying goes, we are the average of the five people we spend the most time with.”
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“They are all gone somewhere. Someone on twitter, someone on instagram, someone on facebook...No one is at home.”
― Yet Another New Land
― Yet Another New Land

“The house was impressive — but not inviting. It had everything, except warmth. Glass, marble, steel — every surface polished to surgical sterility. It didn’t feel like a home. It felt like a verdict.
Chapter 50”
― Voluntary pain
Chapter 50”
― Voluntary pain
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