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Alone Quotes

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Alone Quotes

“I think maybe bad things seem worse when people are alone. When they can turn that bad thought over and over in their head, polishing it like a stone, until it shines dark and black. Maybe the key to making things better is being with other people. Little by little, smiles and laughter and hugs can chip away at any dark stone, even if it’s as big as a boulder to start. Then finally, bit by bit, it shrinks until it’s no bigger than a pebble, something that even I could kick down the road.”

“I touched the moon last night; a golden glow beyond my grasp. Eons before me it rested there. It will remain when I am dust. My hand now glows from the embrace. Voices echo through nights past, and with the glow, caress my face. My finger faints from what will last. Alone I am; alone secure; the moon will last when I am gone. A Master set it in its’ place, to move the tide, refresh the dawn. Unnumbered eyes have felt its rest; have looked upon reflected light. My heart is moved away from pain; I touched the moon last night.”

“- Чувал ли си за болестта сибирска треска? - Не. - Чела съм за нея преди доста време.. Но не помня заглавието на книгата. От сибирска треска боледуват предимно селяните в Сибир. Опитай се да си представиш следното: ти си селянин и живееш съвсем сам в дивата сибирска тайга. Ден след ден превиваш гръб над ралото, разораваш нивите си с пот на челото. Наоколо, докъдето ти стига погледът, няма нищо. Накъдето и да се обърнеш, виждаш само хоризонта - на север, на изток, на юг, на запад - все същото. И нищо друго. Сутрин слънцето изгрява и ти отиваш да работиш на полето. Когато застане над главата ти, значи е дошло време за обяд. Щом започне да клони към залез, се връщаш у дома да спиш..И това се повтаря ден след ден, година след година..Та, представи си, че ти си такъв селянин..Идва ден, когато нещо в теб умира..Нещо..Всеки ден виждаш как слънцето изгрява от изток, изминава своя път по небето, после залязва на запад и нещо в теб се прекършва и умира. Захвърляш плуга и с празна от мисли глава тръгваш на запад. На запад от слънцето. Вървиш ден след ден като луд - не ядеш, не пиеш, докато не паднеш мъртъв на земята. Това е сибирската треска - hysteria siberiana. Опитах се да си представя сибирски селянин, лежащ мъртъв на земята и попитах: - Но какво има там, на запад от слънцето? - Не знам. Може би нищо. А може и да има нещо. Във всеки случай е различно от онова, което е на юг от границата.”

“You want to know what I really learned? I learned that people don’t consider time alone as part of their life. Being alone is just a stretch of isolation they want to escape from. I saw a lot of wine-drinking, a lot of compulsive drug use, a lot of sleeping with the television on. It was less festive than I anticipated. My view had always been that I was my most alive when I was totally alone, because that was the only time I could live without fear of how my actions were being scrutinized and interpreted. What I came to realize is that people need their actions to be scrutinized and interpreted in order to feel like what they’re doing matters. Singular, solitary moments are like television pilots that never get aired. They don’t count. This, I think, explains the fundamental urge to get married and have kids[…]. We’re self-conditioned to require an audience, even if we’re not doing anything valuable or interesting. I’m sure this started in the 1970s. I know it did. I think Americans started raising offspring with this implicit notion that they had to tell their children, “You’re amazing, you can do anything you want, you’re a special person.” [...] But—when you really think about it—that emotional support only applies to the experience of living in public. We don’t have ways to quantify ideas like “amazing” or “successful” or “lovable” without the feedback of an audience. Nobody sits by himself in an empty room and thinks, “I’m amazing.” It’s impossible to imagine how that would work. But being “amazing” is supposed to be what life is about. As a result, the windows of time people spend by themselves become these meaningless experiences that don’t really count. It’s filler.”

“She wanted to sit in the pub with him the way Sam did with Steve, the way Matty and Karen had done last weekend with their boyfriends, to hold his hand as they walked down the street, to be able to smile in public at him, not this controlled, agonisingly formal behaviour. It struck her, this week in particular, that she was completely isolated. She couldn't talk to him, she couldn't talk to her friends, and she didn't know when that would change. And she couldn't do anything about it; she was weak, because she loved him too much, not that that was weakness, but - she was powerless.”