Ann Aguirre Quotes

Loneliness is something you can't walk away from.

Many of my characters struggle with loneliness, that is fair to say.

I've certainly felt alone a lot of my life.

Believe me, I know what it's like to feel all alone...the worst kind of loneliness in the world is isolation that comes from being misunderstood, it can make people lose their grasp on reality. - Sienna Brooks

They flank me - depression on my left, loneliness on my right. They don't need to show their badges. I know these guys very well. ... Then they frisk me. They empty my pockets of any joy I had been carrying there. Depression even confiscates my identity; but he always does that.

Loneliness: there is no organ that can take it all.

Loneliness becomes an acid that eats away at you.

I'm always wearing Spanx, eating ice cream and feeling a bit lonely.

Depression is rage spread thin.

My soul is dark with stormy riot: directly traced over to diet.

Loneliness is always there, it's a phase that comes and goes and it is a very difficult phase.

All by yourself, unable to express the pain of your distress with your deeper inside. You alienate yourself and everybody else.

Self-hatred is worse than loneliness.

I am well in body although considerable rumpled up in spirit.

The walls of isolation are not as solid as your suffering makes them seem.

How sick i am! that thought Always comes to me with horror. Is it this strange for everybody? But such fugitive feelings have always been my metier.

Your melancholy. Or depression. Along with nine-tenths of the afflictions I've studied, diagnosed, attempted to treat. Call them whatever you like, but they're just different names for loneliness. That's what lets the darkness in. That's what you have to fight.

It's a spooky thing to be left alone inside an angry innerverse.

Loneliness as a situation can be corrected, but as a state of mind it is an incurable illness.

I feel the madness creeping slowly. Loved by many I'm still lonely.

By his monstrous way of life he seemed to have put himself beyond the limits of reality. Nothing moved him or spoke to him from the real world unless he heard it in an echo of the infuriated cries within him.

Most self-laceration is more noisy than painful.

Sometimes, however, this sense of isolation, like acid spilling out of a bottle, can unconsciously eat away at a person’s heart and dissolve it.

But day after day of depression, the kind that doesn’t seem to merit carting me off to a hospital but allows me to sit here on this stoop in summer camp as if I were normal, day after day wearing down everybody who gets near me. My behavior seems, somehow, not acute enough for them to know what to do with me, though I’m just enough of a mess to be driving everyone around me crazy.