I was left alone with this new feeling of lightness and content.
You shouldn’t have isolated any of us unless your purpose was to drive us insane. You almost succeeded with me more than once. Humans need one another.
To love makes one solitary, she thought.
Tiny, he said. That’s how I felt. Just a speck. And so terribly alone, as if I were a man in a space fillum.
Maybe that's one of the ways you recognize really lonely people . . . they can always think of something neat to do on rainy days. You can always call them up. They're always home. Fucking always.
For peace you needed human company-his aloneness was like a threat of things to come.
Shut off by a wall of affability, I was always completely alone.
It was the desperate feeling of loneliness one sees in the eyes of a decrepit old cur on the verge of death.
He felt that although his father loved their home and loved all of them, he was more lonely than the contentment of this family love could help; that it even increased his loneliness, or made it hard for him not to be lonely.
Thing is, I’m not alone in the world. That’s the only thing keeps me going.
It didn’t matter so much after all: a little additional pain was hardly noticeable in the huge abandonment.
She paid for her mobility with some loneliness.
A man alone reverts to his animal nature, lad. Don’t you agree?
I don’t enjoy my own company. I always feel there’s somebody missing.
But you can’t hide from fear. There’s no escape from the fear of being alone. It lives on inside us from the moment we are born.
There would never be a way for me to live comfortably with people. Maybe I’d become a monk. I’d pretend to believe in God and live in a cubicle, play an organ and stay drunk on wine.
For who is lonelier than the cockroach without his tribe?
That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal on their own separate orbits.
She has few pleasures to think of as she sits here alone by the fire.
No life is a waste. The only time we waste is the time we spend thinking we are alone.
I knew that seclusion and solitude were very necessary for my friend in those hours of intense mental concentration during which he weighed every particle of evidence, constructed alternative theories, balanced one against the other, and made up his mind as to which points were essential and which immaterial.