Dr. Seuss Quotes

It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core.

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

I'd got very successful, everyone knew who I was, but I felt very empty.

My personal life is fairly barren.

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

...but the truth is that I don't feel like I can carry anyone but myself right now. The streets are empty. I am empty. Or, no--I am full of pain. It's my life that's empty.

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.

I'm completely uninhabited.

My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.

When we have found all the mysteries and lost all the meaning, we will be alone, on an empty shore.

Here, though, there is nothing. Nothing at all. The sky seems empty even when I am looking at the moon and stars.

It's so dreadful to have nothing to love - life is so empty - and there's nothing worse than emptiness.

He could start a row in an empty house.

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.

I look for places like me: big, hollow, forgotten by most everyone.

Loneliness is a mirror, and recognizes itself.

The solitary Bee Whose buzzing was the only sound of life, Flew there on restless wing, Seeking in vain one blossom where to fix.

Of course there is nothing the matter with the stars It is my emptiness among them While they drift farther away in the invisible morning

She learned the intricacy of loneliness: the horror of color, the roar of soundlessness and the menace of familiar objects lying still.

I have outlasted all desire, My dreams and I have grown apart; My grief alone is left entire, The gleamings of an empty heart. The storms of ruthless dispensation Have struck my flowery garland numb, I live in lonely desolation And wonder when my end will come. Thus on a naked tree-limb, blasted By tardy winter's whistling chill, A single leaf which has outlasted Its season will be trembling still.

Oh, this coming back to an empty house,' Rupert thought, when he had seen her safely up to her door. People - though perhaps it was only women - seemed to make so much of it. As if life itself were not as empty as the house one was coming back to.

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