Richelle Mead Quotes

I don't have a girlfriend but sometimes I like to pretend I do. I just stand in my apartment screaming No, that's not what I said!

When I was in high school I used to sit by myself in the cafeteria - not necessarily by choice - but I thought it was funny to talk to people that weren't there.

I was the little, funny one. I felt I was the child among grown women.

When I was a little kid we had a sand box. It was a quicksand box. I was an only child... eventually.

The myth of my solitude makes me laugh.

This is a lovely party," said the Bursar to a chair, "I wish I was here.

Books were safer than other people anyway.

Not that she objected to solitude. Quite the contrary. She had books, thank Heaven, quantities of books. All sorts of books.

Books are a poor substitute for female companionship, but they are easier to find.

Books. I'd probably spend all my time alone and lost in books if I could. It's easier that way.

Oh, well, if you want original conversations, you'd better go and talk to yourself.

I don't know who St. Valentine was, but I hope he died alone, surrounded by couples.

My social life is much better, since I stopped spending it with other people.

In an interview, Paris Hilton said that of her and her sister, "People love to hate us. But when you know us, you love us. And if you really get to know us, you get gonorrhea."

He was thirty-one now, not too old, but old enough to be lonely. He hadn't dated since he'd been back here, hadn't met anyone who remotely interested him. It was his own fault, he knew. There was something that kept a distance between him and any woman who started to get close, something he wasn't sure he could change even if he tried. And sometimes in the moments right before sleep came, he wondered if he was destined to be alone forever.

My daughter got me a 'World's Best Dad' mug. So we know she's sarcastic.

I wished I could be alone in my room, with my books, away from these people.

She was not an existence, an experience, a passion, a structure of sensations, to anybody but herself. To all humankind besides Tess was only a passing thought. Even to friends she was no more than a frequently passing thought.

As my own father was sick, and miserably tied to his invalid's chair, he would have been abandoned had not an old servant performed for him a so-called service of love. My mother gave parties while he was perishing in solitude, and amused herself while he was suffering bitter agonies

I think I'm a homebody. I don't talk to anyone. I sit at home, and no one asks me questions or I'm talking about goat noises.

I genuinely believed no one would want to marry me. I am difficult to live with. I'm selfish, quite weird and I need time on my own to think - and then I work all night long. That is difficult for someone to deal with. And it would drive me mad - I could never be my own girlfriend!

The loneliness you feel with another person, the wrong person, is the loneliest of all.

It's hard for your mom to tell you she has an oral fixation and has to have something in her mouth. My step dad is in the kitchen winking at me. You down with OPP, yeah you know me. Exciting is and a special... What? Easy, and why do you know all the words? That's weird.

The whole problem of life, then, is this: how to break out of one's own loneliness, how to communicate with others.

He was not such a special person. He loved to read very much, and also to write. He was a poet, and he exhibited me many of his poems. I remember many of them. They were silly, you could say, and about love. He was always in his room writing those things, and never with people. I used to tell him, What good is all that love doing on paper? I said, Let love write on you for a little. But he was so stubborn. Or perhaps he was only timid.