Dar Williams Quotes

Weeks go by, and I don't talk to another living soul.

I lived alone, I didn't know anybody in New York, and I was definitely a recluse. It had been, like, two weeks, and I realized I hadn't said anything. I was laying in bed, and I was like, 'Hello?' I just talked to hear my own voice. And it was such a strange feeling.

It is loneliness that makes the loudest noise. This is true of men as of dogs.

I often feel I'm working in a vacuum, or in a country where few readers hear the sounds.

What could be lonelier than trying to communicate?

Nothing echoes like an empty mailbox.

We're all like the little sailor. From the harbors we hear the strains of accordions and the murky soapy noises of the docks, from the mountains we receive the dish of silence that the shepherds eat, but we don't hear more than our own distances. And what distances without end and without doors and without mountains!

More and more I find myself at a loss for words and didn't want to hear other people talking either. Their conversations seemed false and empty. I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone.

I love the sound of breaking glass Especially when Im lonely I need the noises of destruction When theres nothing new.

Your empty eyes seem to pass me by and leave me dancing with myself.

There was no one to call me to bed, no one to demand that the rhythms of my life operate in a duet.

Forget sex or politics or religion, loneliness is the subject that clears out a room.

Often, marriage was solitude, with company.

I understand being alone. I understand not liking it, wishing for something else.

I ain't got no friends.

I've done arenas, and sometimes it feels like you're the only one in the room.

That's what my music is good for - clearing out the house and being alone.

I was working in cartoons. I could go to Comic-Con, buy the Hal Jordan ring, I could buy animation cels, but at the end of the day, I come back to an empty apartment. I had a life that was only around me, and when I was broken, my world was broken.

The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life.

The new light above my table is a great improvement. With all this darkness around me I feel less alone. (Pause.) In a way. (Pause.) I love to get up and move about in it, then back here to... (hesitates) ...me. (Pause.)

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

You've built your homeyou've fledged your birdsyou've beaten the windwith your bonesyou've finished alonewhat no one began

We move through the day like two hands of a clock: sometimes we overlap for a moment, then come apart again, carrying on alone. Everyday exactly the same: the tea, the burnt toast, the crumbs, the silence.

I went to the guest room and pretended to write. I hit the space bar again and again and again. My life story was spaces.

I live here among the ignorant like a lost man in fact like one whom the rest seems careless of having anything to do with — they hardly dare talk in my company for fear I shoud mention them in my writings & I find more pleasure in wandering the fields then in mixing among my silent neighbours who are insensible of everything but toiling & talking of it & that to no purpose.