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The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne

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Brian Moore

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“Mostly she just missed Vaughn. Missed all those quiet, unspectacular moments that, when added up, showed how entwined their lives had become. And right now, she missed being able to phone him, because it would be so easy to tap in the eleven digits that would put his voice on the line. ‘Grace, about bloody time,’ he’d say, and make it sound like an endearment. But she couldn’t call Vaughn, because she’d left him. Which was a novelty, until Grace remembered that he’d have left her eventually if she hadn’t done it first. She was never the one. She was never even the one before the one. She was the girl who seemed like a good idea at the time, but ultimately was just a phase that people went through. That was the way it had always been. Friends and lovers came and went because there was something about her which repelled them, and she didn’t have a clue what it was. It was a mystery that she couldn’t solve on her own, and there wasn’t a single person in the world who could help . . .”

LoveLonelinessHeartbreakAngst
Book:Unsticky
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“Red's world, you see, is a closed circle. Not that it matters. I know that I'm a closed circle, too, and it's all I can do to find some starting point from myself, while at the same time trying to find my own terminus. There's no way I'm ever going to find my beginning or end in somebody else's circle. Two people together never add up to anything more than one person added to another. That we continue to add ourselves up in this way is the reason human beings will always be lonely.”

LoveLoneliness
Book:Village of Stone
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“Хүмүүс бий болсон үеэсээ эхлэн үүрд ганцаардан хоригдсон хоригдол болсон зүрх сэтгэл цохилон байдаг бүрхэвчийг нэвтлэн урахыг хий дэмий цөхрөлтгүй оролдон, гар хөл, уруул ам, харц, тачаадан дагжсан нүцгэн биеэрээ, янаглалд сульдсан хайр сэтгэлээрээ дараа нь бас л хаягдан ганцаардах өөр нэгэнд амьдралыг өгөх гэж хий дэмий хүч тавьдaг.”

Loneliness
Author:Guy de Maupassant
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“Lathis rattle against steel railings. Drenched half-naked men, some with torn shirts, jump up and down waving their fists. Some chant ‘Bande Mataram,’ others ‘Mazdur ki jai,’ whatever is their preference, the motherland or the brotherhood of workers. The hammer and sickle, red but limp, flaps like a half-dead fish against the trunk of a banyan tree. The sky cries monsoon tears; it has been crying all night.”

LoveRomanceHistoryHistoricalInsightFamily LifeFiction NovelStrugglesHerritage
Book:Karna's Wheel
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“His act was rather that of a harmless lunatic than an enemy. We were not so new to the country as not to know that the solitary life of many a plainsman had a tendency to develop eccentricities of conduct and character not always easily distinguishable from mental aberration. A man is like a tree: in a forest of his fellows he will grow as straight as his generic and individual nature permits; alone, in the open, he yields to the deforming stresses and tortions that environ him.”

SocietyCrazyLonelinessSolitudeCompanionship
Book:Ghost stories
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