Benazir Bhutto Quotes

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 guess lyrically they're similar because they're talking about escaping the kind of misery that likes company. 'The Last One Alive,' for me, is very simple. It's just about alienation, really, that causes anger.

Loneliness and hunger were my fortunes of creation.

Misery no longer loves company. Nowadays it insists on it.

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.

I found, when I left, that there were others who felt the same way. We'd meet, they'd come and seek me out, we'd talk about the future. And I found that their depression and pessimism was every bit as acute as mine.

People are hurting, and they feel very disengaged and disenfranchised.

Time has no meaning. I feel as if I have been left in the desert to die and am eagerly awaiting the vultures to begin their work and end my misery.

Nobody the dead man & Nobody the living Nobody is giving in & Nobody is giving Nobody hears me but just Nobody cares Nobody fears me but Nobody just stares Nobody belongs to me & Nobody remains No Nobody knows nothing All that remains are remains

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

If misery loves company, misery has company enough.

The delta blues is a low-down, dirty shame blues. It's a sad, big wide sound, something to make you think about people who are dead or the women who left you.

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

Of all men's miseries the bitterest is this: to know so much and to have control over nothing.

I've been to those places where it's 'poor, pitiful me.'

In this cry of pain the inner consciousness of the people seems to lay itself bare for an instant, and to reveal the mood of beings who feel their isolation in the face of a universe that wars on them with winds and seas.

I have no mouth, and I must scream.

Maybe men are separated from each other only by the degree of their misery.

Here is the tragedy: when you are the victim of depression, not only do you feel utterly helpless and abandoned by the world, you also know that very few people can understand, or even begin to believe, that life can be this painful. There is nothing I can think of that is quite as isolating as this.

Isolation is the sum total of wretchedness to a man.

Man, I hate to get depressing on you, but I don't have a game. I'm so alone, so depressed, so dark, no.

Neither God nor the Devil would take me in, so here I am.

Who gives a fuck if he's lonely and depressed down there in San Clemente? If there were any such thing as true justice in this world, his rancid carcass would be somewhere down around Easter Island right now, in the belly of a hammerhead shark.

During my captivity, I felt abandoned by everyone apart from my family and supporters, because there was no part of the political spectrum that would want me released.

I shall never come to the Punjab again; it is such a hopeless place.