Loneliness is the most terrible poverty.
It was a time of great loneliness. He had a group of friends, and suddenly I had no one and did not understand why. I felt excluded. Some days, the majority was in high school and did not know who to talk to. And that is something really terrible when you’re twelve years old.
The dread of loneliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.
Novelty is a new kind of loneliness.
Who knows what true loneliness is — not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.
If you are afraid of being lonely, don’t try to be right
Here I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea. We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together is deep and strong and strange.
And behind their frail partitionsBusiness women lie and soak,Seeing through the draughty skylightFlying clouds and railway smoke.Rest you there, poor unbelov’d ones,Lap your loneliness in heat,All too soon the tiny breakfast,Trolley-bus and windy street!
I wonder will death be much lonelier than life. Life’s an awfully lonesome affair. You can live close against other people yet your lives never touch. You come into the world alone and you go out of the world alone yet it seems to me you are more alone while living than even coming and going.
The fact that Saigyo composed a poem that begins, “I shall be unhappy without loneliness,” shows that he made loneliness his master.
Loneliness is the ultimate poverty
Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.
Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the spaces between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.
Better be alone than in bad company
The end comes when we no longer talk with ourselves. It is the end of genuine thinking and the beginning of the final loneliness.
People think they know me, but they don`t. Not really. Actually, I am one of the loneliest people on this earth. I cry sometimes, because it hurts. It does. To be honest, I guess you could say that it hurts to be me.
Loneliness is the universal problem of rich people.
Loneliness is the first thing which God’s eye named, not good
Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate
To transform the emptiness of loneliness, to the fullness of aloneness. Ah, that is the secret of life.
When everyone leaves you it’s loneliness you feel, when you leave everyone else it’s solitude.
Loneliness the clearest of crystal insight into your own soul, its the fear of one’s own self that haunts the lonely.
We, unaccustomed to courageexiles from delightlive coiled in shells of lonelinessuntil love leaves its high holy templeand comes into our sightto liberate us into life.
What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
Being human is the most terrible loneliness in the universe.
Lonely people, in talking to each other can make each other lonelier.
If you are afraid of loneliness, do not marry.
We’re all lonely for something we don’t know we’re lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we’ve never even met?
Skillful listening is the best remedy for loneliness, loquaciousness, and laryngitis.
Well, we’re grasping for two things at once. Partly for communion with others that’s the deepest instinct in us. And partly, we’re seeking security. By constant communion with others we hope we shall be able to accept the horrible fact of our total solitude. We’re always reaching out for new projects, new structure, new systems in order to abolish partly or wholly our insight into our loneliness. If it weren’t so, religious systems would never arise.
It is loneliness that makes the loudest noise. This is true of men as of dogs.
People drain me, even the closest of friends, and I find loneliness to be the best state in the union to live in.
A sense of utter lonelinessloneliness inevitable, crushing, eternal, the loneliness of existence, encompassed by the infinite void of unconsciousnessenfolded him as a pall. Life lay like an incubus on his bosom. He shuddered at the thought that death might overlook him, and deny him its refuge.
Who knows what true loneliness is not the conventional word, but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.