Bernadette Devlin Quotes

The more hopeless you were, the further away they hid you.

Satan has his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and detested.

Christmas is a holiday that persecutes the lonely, the frayed, and the rejected.

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.

Right now, they feel they have lost their voice, and their miseries have increased since my departure.

Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless!

The biggest disease today is not leprosy or tuberculosis, but rather the feeling of being unwanted.

I think everybody can sort of relate to feeling like the outcast and feeling a bit lost and just craving somebody's attention.

It is sad when people can't connect, and the sense of desperation that you feel when there is nothing to look forward to.

The best thing would be to break your neck, but you'd probably just break your leg and then you couldn't do a thing. You'd yell at the top of your lungs, but nobody;d hear you, and you couldn't expect anybody to find you, and you'd have centipedes and spiders crawling all over you, and the bones of the ones who died before are scattered all around you, and it's dark and soggy, and way overhead there's this tiny, tiny circle of light like a winter moon. You die there in this place, little by little, all by yourself.

I’m all you have in this world Mariam, and when I’m gone you’ll have nothing. You ARE nothing!

All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou are bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us.

All right, then, I thought: here I am in the bottom of a well.

I am nothing. I’m like someone who’s been thrown into the ocean at night, floating all alone. I reach out, but no one is there. I call out, but no one answers. I have no connection to anything.

Everything hurt. I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek to the street, and waited. What for, I didn't know. To be rescued. Or found. But no one came. All I'd ever thought I wanted was to be left alone. Until I was.

I could scream down 90 mountains to less than dust if only one living human had eyes in the head and heart in the body, but there is no chance, my god, no chance. rat with rat dog with dog hog with hog, play the piano drunk listen to the drunk piano, realize the myth of mercy stand still as even a child's voice snarls and we have not been fooled, it was only that we wanted to believe.

I am now a man of despair, rejected, abandoned, shut up in this iron cage from which there is no escape.

Loneliness and hunger were my fortunes of creation.

Sometimes the world seems like a big hole. You spend all your life shouting down it and all you hear are echoes of some idiot yelling nonsense down a hole.

But I also think all of the great stories in literature deal with loneliness. Sometimes it's by way of heartbreak, sometimes it's by way of injustice, sometimes it's by way of fate. There's an infinite number of ways to examine it.

I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.

Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning. I was much further out than you thought, and not waving but drowning. I was much too far out all my life, And not waving but drowning.

All hope abandon, ye who enter here!

Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold.

I can't imagine anything worse than being just left alone, scared out of your mind.