I'm not much but I'm all I have. — Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip
I'm not much but I'm all I have. — Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip
I'm not much but I'm all I have. — Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip
I'm not much but I'm all I have. — Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip
I'm not much but I'm all I have. — Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip
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I'm not much but I'm all I have.

— Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip
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More “Loneliness” Quotes

The high is what you crave, what you would kill for... and believe me, you will lie to yourself until it's to late to st — H. Alazhar, City of Paradise
At some point, loneliness becomes less a condition than a habit. — Jonathan Tropper, One Last Thing Before I Go
But to think there was meaning, a scheme to things, well, that was quite beyond her philosophical reach. She feared as s — Anne Rice, The Witching Hour
Graff had isolated Ender to make him struggle. To make him prove, not that he was competent, but that he was far better — Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game
Too many thousands of opened books yawned between them and him. He had exiled himself. — Jack London
What was it - this implacable remoteness, this inability to surrender herself to the warmth and comradely feelings of ot — Tom Wolfe, I am Charlotte Simmons
Loneliness wasn't just a state of mind, was it? It was tactile. She could feel it. It was a sixth sense, not in some fan — Tom Wolfe, I am Charlotte Simmons
What could he be thinking of? He seemed to be trying to remember something, perhaps an engagement, perhaps an excuse to — Brian Moore, The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne
From his earliest years Cincinnatus, by some strange and happy chance comprehending his danger, carefully managed to con — Vladimir Nabokov, Invitation to a Beheading
I cry everyday but for a limited time — Yash Gupta
It was an intensely lonely moment, like all of eighth grade condensed into one claustrophobic second. — Lisa Rowe Fraustino, Dirty Laundry: Stories About Family Secrets
And the bell jangled, the driver started. The bus whirled off, to the last stop, the lonely room, the lonely night. — Brian Moore, The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne