Isabelle Adjani Quotes

With what all these people are saying, do you think that anybody wants to be around me? They all think that I did this on purpose? That I knew that I was positive, for so many years? I feel now that I'm going to be attacked if anybody sees me or if I go to the office.

AIDS is a horrible disease, and the people who catch it deserve compassion.

After that I couldn't show my face outside. I lost my identity and balance. I was still living with my parents, and they were my only friends. For so many people, this thing with the nurse was confirmation that I must be mad or mentally ill.

A man's illness is his private territory and, no matter how much he loves you and how close you are, you stay an outsider. You are healthy.

At times in my life, I have been utterly lonely. At other times, I've had disgusting infectious diseases. Try admitting these things in our culture.

I remember my first friend who got sick. It was 1981, and the disease was called the gay cancer. I don't think the word 'AIDS' came out until '84. I just remember it being terrifying as more people got sick. We didn't know how you could catch it, you heard all kinds of crazy things.

I put on the fat suit and went outside and walked around. I was really nervous about being found out, but nobody would even make eye contact with me. It really upset me.

Chronic pain can be very lonely. It can have a shame-based quality.

The sick soon come to understand that they live in a different world from that of the well and that the two cannot communicate.

As a child or young adult going through an illness, it can be stressful at times and boring and extremely alienating.

I was trying to work, but I noticed that people, if they had any inkling of the idea that I was sick or had MS... people shunned me. No work after that.

I was ostracized by my community.

Sickness is a place, ... and it's always a place where there's no company, where nobody can follow.

In a sense sickness is a place, more instructive than a long trip to Europe, and it's always a place where there's no company, where nobody can follow. Sickness before death is a very appropriate thing and I think those who don't have it miss one of God's mercies.

If originally it was not good for a man to be alone, it is much worse for a sick man to be so; he thinks too much of his distemper, and magnifies it.

For loneliness, worries, difficulties, the unsatisfied need for kindness and sympathy - that is what is hard to bear.

Be good and you'll be lonesome

True, God hates Alzheimer's, spinal cord injury, mental illness, autism, and the rest (these conditions are all symptoms of the Fall). Yet he permits these things to accomplish something far more precious in our lives: patience, endurance, compassion for others who hurt, and refined faith and trust in God, to name a few.

I only had the right to sit in the shadows of the world,in complete silence. Whether I was laughed at, or told I was discusting, or thought of as unpleasant I would sit in the shadows.

I still think that the greatest suffering is being lonely, feeling unloved, just having no one... That is the worst disease that any human being can ever experience.

She suffers according to the digits of my hate. I hear the filaments of alabaster. I would lie down with them and lift my madness off like a wig. I would lie outside in a room of wool and let the snow cover me. Paris white or flake white or argentine, all in the washbasin of my mouth, calling “Oh.” I am empty. I am witless. Death is here. There is no other settlement.

Each age, each guilty age, builds high walls around its Versailles; and personally I hate those walls most when they are made by literature and art.

And the sad act like lepers They stick to the shadows They long to ring bells of warning To tell of their coming So that the pure can shut their doors.

Of all the diseases I have known, loneliness is the worst.

Not the swart Pariah in some Indian grove, Lone, lean, and hunted by his brother's hate, Hath drunk so deep the cup of bitter fate As that poor wretch who cannot, cannot love: He bears a load which nothing can remove, A killing, withering weight.