Candy Loneliness Quotes

The sadness, the silence, the darkness, the loneliness... all of it held in a simple little moment. It was just so... I don't know. Just so much.

No matter how mad, bad, and dangerous to know a civilization gets, unto every generation are born the lonely and the uncool, destined to forever stare into the candy-store window of their culture, and loneliness is the mother of ascension. Only the uncool have the requisite alone time to advance their species.

But happiness is a difficult thing-it is, as Aristotle posited in The Nicomachean Ethics, an activity, is is about good social behavior, about being a solid citizen. Happiness is about community, intimacy, relationships, rootedness, closeness, family, stability, a sense of place, a feeling of love. And in this country, where people move from state to state and city to city so much, where rootlessness is almost a virtue ("anywhere I hang my hat...is someone else's home"), where family units regularly implode and leave behind fragments of divorce, where the long loneliness of life finds its antidote not in a hardy, ancient culture (as it would in Europe), not in some blood-deep tribal rites (as it would in the few still-hale Third World nations), but in our vast repository of pop culture, of consumer goods, of cotton candy for all-in this America, happiness is hard.

I was not meant for this world. I don’t know. All I know is, I love, and I am not loved. I do not know happiness. I know despair, loneliness, and longing.

From the clayey soil of northern Wyoming is mined bentonite, which is used as filler in candy, gum, and lipstick. We Americans are great on fillers, as if what we have, what we are, is not enough. We have a cultural tendency toward denial, but being affluent, we strangle ourselves with what we can buy. We gave only to look at the houses we build to see how we build *against* space, the way we drink against pain and loneliness. We fill up space as if it were a pie shell, with things whose opacity further obstructs our ability to see what is already there.

The glass door swung open and two big, homely women walked in looking guilty. They were the kind of women who, out of sheer loneliness, end up doing kinky stuff with candy bars and wake up with apple fritters in their hair.

I struggled with anxiety and loneliness, even in a crowded room. I never felt like I was enough. I ate Tums like candy. And I know this sounds all beauty-contestant-answerish, but I just wanted inner peace, a place to come in out of the rain. I needed, well, God, really, but you couldn’t have told me that then, not until the crap hit the fan. You know, those no-one-can- save-you-but-God things? An actual life or death experience. I’m not kidding, I didn’t think I was going to live, but instinctively I cried out and BAM! There God was, not judgmental and mean, but the ultimate friend. He came through in a big way! I’ll be honest with you, I flippin’ drank the Kool-Aid. 

No matter how mad, bad, and dangerous to know a civilization gets, unto every generation are born the lonely and the uncool, destined to forever stare into the candy-store window of their culture, and loneliness is the mother of ascension.

As a teenager Valentine’s Day was a stressful time. Either I didn’t have a “girlfriend” and was forced to endure a day of hearts, cards and stuffed animals parading through my loneliness or even worse I had a “girlfriend” and felt pressure to provide just the right combination of cards, candy and stuffed animals to show the appropriate level of affection. Are flowers and a card enough? Should I get her balloons? Does she like balloons? If I don’t get her candy will she think I think she’s fat? Why did I want a girlfriend again? Valentine’s Day was a report card on how you were, or were not in some sad cases, perceived as “boyfriend” material.

what this decade will be known for there is no doubt it is loneliness

If loneliness were a grape the wine would be vintage If it were a wood the furniture would be mahogany But since it is life it is Cotton Candy on a rainy day The sweet soft essence of possibility Never quite maturing from Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day

Sorry for the scare," Elinor gently told mothers as she handed out cakes and meat from the baskets. "Thank you for your service," Fergus roared at fathers, handing out oats and salt and candles. "These are my favorite," Merida added, giving the children some of Aileen's ginger biscuits. "They bite you back." Through it all, the triplets kept singing lustily as they threw candies at other boys, and eventually the villagers joined in, too, with the familiar old songs. As the stars shone hard and cold above, Gille Peter and the others put out wood and set the big Christmas bonfire alight at the end of the main street. They'd brought enough timber to burn a bonfire straight through to the late winter dawn, and soon, dozens of people were gathered around it, singing and laughing, voices raised high and joyful, all of it a bulwark against the dark and cold and loneliness and violence. Magic, magic, magic. A very different type of magic than the Cailleach's or Ferdach's. A magic that Merida liked an awful lot. The mundane, generous magic of her family. She liked them an awful lot.

She prefers having dreams of the future to using up her dreams here and now. On one of the rare occasions she was invited to a children’s birthday party and given candy, she saved it for years. Until a white coating appeared on the sweets, and Mamma said that they had to be thrown away. This made Rakel so upset that she cried.