Alex Ferguson Quotes

The emptiness was intense, like the stillness in a great factory when the machinery stops running.

I'm completely uninhabited.

Sometimes I feel like a caretaker of a museum -- a huge, empty museum where no one ever comes, and I'm watching over it for no one but myself.

Lone women, like to empty houses, perish.

When friendship disappears then there is a space left open to that awful loneliness of the outside world which is like the cold space between the planets. It is an air in which men perish utterly.

Not a living thing was to be seen and the cottages that sat huddled close to the ground remained fast shut; the smoke from the chimneys alone still gave a sign of life.

My personal life is fairly barren.

There is nothing else to do in my life... I have no family, relationships - this is the only thing that I do.

For a long time now my heart has had its shutters closed, its steps deserted, formerly a tumultuous hotel, but now empty and echoing like a great empty tomb.

I am living at the Villa Borghese. There is not a crumb of dirt anywhere, nor a chair misplaced. We are all alone here and we are dead.

Our reason has driven all away. Alone at last, we end up ruling over a desert.

Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

I am empty of everything. I am empty of everything but the thin, frail ghosts in my room.

If hers are the stars in the nighttime sky, mine are the haunted empty spaces in between.

Our house is like an empty cigarette packet, lying around reminding you what's not in it.

I've been in that angst of loneliness, where you're really alone in the universe, except for the dog.

Separation penetrates the disappearing person like a pigment and steeps him in gentle radiance.

I'm fine with being a little bit of an instigator.

It's a terrible feeling being lonely.

I hate being alone, even for 10 minutes.

Who knows what true loneliness is - not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion.

Lonesome. Lonesome. I know what it means. Here all by my lonesome, dreaming empty dreams. Weary. Weary at the close of day, wondering if tomorrow brings me joy or sorrow.

You are forever alone.

Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated.