#Desolation
Quotes about desolation
Desolation, a profound and often haunting state of emptiness or loneliness, resonates deeply within the human experience. It is a theme that captures the stark contrast between the bustling world outside and the silent void within. This feeling of isolation can arise from various life circumstances, such as loss, heartbreak, or the pursuit of meaning in an indifferent universe. Despite its somber nature, desolation is a powerful catalyst for introspection and personal growth. People are drawn to quotes about desolation because they offer a sense of connection and understanding, reminding us that we are not alone in our solitude. These quotes often articulate the inexpressible, giving voice to the silent echoes of our hearts. They provide comfort and validation, allowing us to explore the depths of our emotions and emerge with a renewed sense of resilience. In a world that often emphasizes positivity and connection, the exploration of desolation offers a necessary balance, acknowledging the shadows that accompany the light. Through the words of others, we find solace and strength, transforming desolation from a state of despair into a profound journey of self-discovery and healing.
[W]hen you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. Desolation tries to colonize you.
Momentos como aquel eran los de mayor soledad. En el profundo silencio de la medianoche, el universo se revelaba a quien estuviese escuchando como una vasta desolación.
Nothing is so alien, so bleak and unfriendly, as the strip of gas stations—cut-rate gas stations—and motels on the rim of your own city. You fail to recognize it. And at the same time, you have to clasp it to your bosom. Not just for one night, but as long as you intend to live where you live.
He inhabits now that part of himselfWhich lay formerly desolate and uncolonised. - Mark of Patmos
Anna watched as Abel walked across the empty schoolyard, she wondered whether there was a limit to desolation or whether it grew endlessly, infinitely. Desolation with a hundred faces and more, desolation of a hundred different kinds and more, like the color blue.
Out along the dim six-o’clock street, I saw leafless trees standing, striking the sidewalk there like wooden lightning, concrete split apart where they hit, all in a fenced-in ring. An iron line of pickets stuck out of the ground along the front of a tangleweed yard, and on back was a big frame house with a porch, leaning a rickety shoulder hard into the wind so’s not to be sent tumbling away a couple of blocks like an empty cardboard grocery box.
Each death laid a dreadful charge of complicity on the living; each death was incongenerous, its guilt irreducible, its sadness immortal; a bracelet of bright hair about the bone. I did not pray for her, because prayer has no efficacy; I did not cry for her, because only extroverts cry twice; I sat in the silence of that night, that infinite hostility to man, to permanence, to love, remembering her, remembering her.