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Loneliness Quotes

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Loneliness Quotes

“Walking by yourself in the rain is for college kids who think loneliness makes poets.”

Thinking Kids Loneliness College Poet Walking Rain

Book:A fine and private place: The last unicorn

Source: A fine and private place: The last unicorn

“And I never thought this life was possible,You're the yellow bird that I've been waiting for. In polaroids you were dressed in women's clothes Were you made ashamed, why'd you lock them in a drawer? Well, I don't think that I ever loved you more Well let the poets cry themselves to sleep And all their tearful words will turn back into steam The sound of loneliness makes me happier.”

Thinking Wells Made Turns Waiting Sound Sleep Loneliness Cry Poet Clothes Bird This Life Ashamed Yellow Locks Steam Drawers Polaroids

Author:Conor Oberst

“Goodbye, you who are, for me, the postmarks again of shattered towns--Xenia, Burnt Cabins, Hornell-- their loneliness given away in poems, only their solitude kept.”

War Poetry Given Loneliness Poet Solitude Destruction Towns Goodbye Shattered Cabins

Author:Galway Kinnell

“The poem is lonely. It is lonely and en route. Its author stays with it. Does this very fact not place the poem already here, at its inception, in the encounter, in the mystery of encounter?”

Doe Facts Poetry Mystery Loneliness Poet Lonely Encounters Routes Inception

Book:Paul Celan: Selections

Source: Paul Celan: Selections

“Sitting up all night would be pointless if somebody you loved wasn't sitting up with you, picking out music to play and helping you kill the bourbon. Walking by yourself in the rain is for college kids who think loneliness makes poets.”

Ifs Thinking Play Helping Would Be Kids Night Loneliness College Poet Walking Sitting Rain All Night Pointless Up All Night Bourbon Sitting Up

Book:A fine and private place: The last unicorn

Source: A fine and private place: The last unicorn

“… that sour blend of loneliness and lust for recognition, shyness and extravagance, deep insecurity and self-intoxicated egomania, that drives poets and writers out of their rooms to seek each other out, to rub shoulders with one another, bully, joke, condescend, feel each other, lay a hand on a shoulder or an arm round a waist, to chat and argue with little nudges, to spy a little, sniff out what is cooking in other pots, flatter, disagree, collude, be right, take offence, apologise, make amends, avoid each other, and seek each other’s company again.”

“Some minds corrode and grow inactive under the loss of personal liberty; others grow morbid and irritable; but it is the nature of the poet to become tender and imaginitive in the loneliness of confinement. He banquets upon the honey of his own thoughts, and, like the captive bird, pours forth his soul in melody.”

Mind Soul Grows Loss Liberty Loneliness Poet Bird Melody Honey Captives Morbid Banquets Confinement Personal Liberty

Book:The Complete Works

Source: The Complete Works

“A tramp, a gentleman, a poet, a dreamer, a lonely fellow, always hopeful of romance and adventure.”

“We poets would die of loneliness but for women, and we choose our men friends that we may have somebody to talk about women with. Letter to Olivia Shakespeare, 1936”

Men May Death Dies Women Friendship Loneliness Poet Letters Olivia

Author:William Butler Yeats

“Loneliness is necessary for pure poetry. When someone intrudes into the poet's life (and any sudden personal contact, whether in the bed or in the heart, is an intrusion) the poet loses his or her balance for a moment, slips into being what he or she is, uses his or her poetry as one would use money or sympathy. The person who writes the poetry emerges, tentatively, like a hermit crab from a conch shell. The poet, for that instant, ceases to be a dead person.”

Writing Heart Persons Moments Use Poetry Loses Loneliness Poet Balance Pure Bed Cease Contact Instant Slips Shells Intrusion Hermits Crabs Hermit Crabs

Author:Jack Spicer

“What broke your heart so bad That you had to close every door, That you say you have a dark soul And can't utter the word 'love' anymore?”

“I like longing climbing up the railings of sound and color catching into my open mouth the frozen scent I like my loneliness suspended higher than a bridge embracing the sky with its arms and my love walking barefoot over the snow”

Poetry Sadness Loneliness Poet Sad Solitude Longing Halina Poświatowska

Author:Halina Poświatowska