loneliness

There was something odd for him about not feeling lonely. The very fact that he had ceased to be lonely caused him to fear the possibility of becoming lonely again.

In the parking lot, she drove and parked in a dark area with no other cars around. She reclined her seat, and listened to music. Outside there were trees, a ditch, a bridge; another parking lot. It was very dark. Maybe the Sasquatch would run out from the woods. Chelsea wouldn__ be afraid. She would calmly watch the Sasquatch jog into the ditch then out, hairy and strong and mysterious__o be so large yet so unknown; how could one cope except by running?__mash through some bushes, and sprint, perhaps, behind Wal-Mart, leaping over a shopping cart and barking. Did the Sasquatch bark? It used to alarm Chelsea that this might be all there was to her life, these hours alone each day and night__hinking things and not sharing them and then forgetting__he possibility of that would shock her a bit, trickily, like a three-part realization: that there was a bad idea out there; that that bad idea wasn__ out there, but here; and that she herself was that bad idea. But recently, and now, in her car, she just felt calm and perceiving, and a little consoled, even, by the sad idea of her own life, as if it were someone else__, already happened, in some other world, placed now in the core of her, like a pillow that was an entire life, of which when she felt exhausted by aloneness she could crumple and fall towards, like a little bed, something she could pretend, and believe, even (truly and unironically believe; why not?), was a real thing that had come from far away, through a place of no people, a place of people, and another place of no people, as a gift, for no occasion, but just because she needed__r perhaps deserved; did the world try in that way? to make things fair?__t.

But before that day it felt like at least I had an ally on this boat. Now I have nothing. Well, I have a fat baby sea monster. But Bao doesn't tell jokes, and somehow I need that.I hate how I need that.

It is good to be alone, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult should be one more reason to do it.

Maybe the point of life is to teach us that we aren__ always going to be our past mistakes. Maybe the point of life is to open ourselves up to the things that we fear most__ike love.Maybe the whole point of my life was to simply find you, even if it wasn__ meant to be forever.And that thought alone is enough to get me through each night of loneliness.

how can you imagine what particular region of the first ages a man's untrammelled feet may take him into by the way of solitude--utter solitude without a policeman--by the way of silence--utter silence, where no warning voice of a kind neighbour can be heard whispering of public opinion? These little things make all the great difference. When they are gone you must fall back upon your own innate strength, upon your own capacity for faithfulness

She sits there and feels the loneliness and the lack of him

It all comes down to this: when you recognise your loneliness in another person, when you see desperation so familiar to yours written across someone else, you can__ just let them leave.

In one sense, (Duchamp's) __he Large Glass_ is a glimpse into Hell; a peculiarly modernist Hell of repetition and loneliness.

When my head is in the typewriter the last thing on my mind is some imaginary reader. I don__ have an audience; I have a set of standards. But when I think of my work out in the world, written and published, I like to imagine it__ being read by some stranger somewhere who doesn__ have anyone around him to talk to about books and writing__aybe a would-be writer, maybe a little lonely, who depends on a certain kind of writing to make him feel more comfortable in the world.

Just think about it," he said softly. "You can do practically anything. You can have practically everything. And none of it will keep you from being alone.""Shut up shut up...Everybody's alone."He nodded. "But some people learn how to live with it.

When we finished the kiss she said laughing, I can taste your loneliness - it tastes like vinegar. That annoyed me. Everyone knows loneliness tastes like cold potato soup.

She was completely alone, only the distant call of a bird telling her a world existed outside of her circle of pain.

I was so alone that every day was like eating my own heart.

Give me wildflowers instead of your heart, for I__ rather have them wither than the latter.

Fighting the good fight is not as easy when you__e fighting alone.

No better school invented yet than the school of loneliness in the matters of understanding our deep-self!

You know something, you never know what lonely is until you are really alone, alone all day, alone all night, with no one to talk to.