Lana Del Rey Quotes

I'm obsessed with my parents.

You don't know what it's like to be me.

I feel like, throughout lots of my life, especially growing up, I felt powerless.

I still feel like an outcast on the inside, but it doesn't bother me anymore at all.

No one alive is more tormented nor weaker than myself.

but he only found her in the image that saturated his private and terrible solitude.

I'm still vulnerable and still weak.

I love anything that haunts me...and never leaves

The truly solitary being is not the man who is abandoned by men, but the man who suffers in their midst, who drags his desert through the marketplace and deploys his talents as a smiling leper, a mountebank of the irreparable.

He'd come back, all open and helpless, and I suppose that's what won her around in the end. But it was so sad, because it was being himself that he found so difficult to cope with.

Each obsession is a knot in your being. Once it is opened, great energy is released

Ursula craved solitude but she hated loneliness, a conundrum that she couldn’t even begin to solve.

Loneliness is a mirror, and recognizes itself.

The worst prison would be a closed heart.

Let me go.” “I can’t”, he said hoarsely, (…)” I’ve tried a hundred times to let you go, Victoria, but I can’t.

Yesterday he told me he thought I would have to pretend to be weak, but he was wrong. I am weak already. I brace myself against the wall and press my forehead to my hands. It’s difficult to take deep breaths, so I take short, shallow ones. I can’t let this happen. They attacked me to make me feel weak. I can pretend they succeeded to protect myself, but I can’t let it become true.

Alone in my room, wrapped in a blanket, I whimpered and talked aloud to myself, recalling the lost glory of my youth when I considered myself, and was considered by others, a bright and capable person. It seemed that was all gone now.

You realize that trying to keep your distance from me will not lessen my affection for you. All efforts to save me from you will fail.

Mad is the man who is forever gritting his teeth against that granite block, complete and changeless, of the past.

So therefore I dedicate myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labors, my suffrances, my loneliness, my unique madness, my endless absorption and hunger because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being.

... i didn't fall in love of course it's never up to you but she was walking back and forth and i was passing through

Solitude is the mother of anxieties.

One degrades oneself sometimes in the effort not to be lonely.

To be loved to madness--such was her great desire. Love was to her the one cordial which could drive away the eating loneliness of her days. And she seemed to long for the abstraction called passionate love more than for any particular lover.