I just...I just miss him. And I hate being so alone.

If there hadn't been an Elvis, there wouldn't have been the Beatles.

I found myself regarding him as an isolated phenomenon, a brain without a heart, as deficient in human sympathy as he was pre-eminent in intelligence.

He felt misery, loneliness, a terrible need for love.

Before Elvis there was nothing.

When a man is one of a kind, he will be lonely wherever he is.

Only one man ever understood me, and he didn't understand me.

He was alone with his thoughts. They were extremely unpleasant thoughts and he would rather have had a chaperon.

The worst kind of loneliness gripped him. The kind you feel alongside another person.

"How terrible," said Eragon, "to die alone, separate even from the one who is closest to you."

<i>Everyone dies alone, Eragon. Whether you are a king on a battlefield or a lowly peasant lying in bed among your family, no one can accompany you into the void.</i>

It's because I'm alone.. If I could just feel it, it would be different, because I would not be alone. But if I were not alone, everybody would know it. And he could do so much for me, and then I would not be alone. Then I could be all right alone.

One needs a great deal of idle time to feel really sorry for oneself.

It wasn't an excuse. It was a fact. He'd had to make his way alone, and no one — not rock stars, not professional athletes, not software billionaires, and not even geniuses — ever makes it alone.

I felt very lonely when they were all there.