Feeling of Displacement Quotes

I've always felt like an alien trapped in a human form. We all do at some time or other; for me it's a permanent state, and I'm still unsure if Earth is a penance or a reward.

Man, by definition, is born a stranger: coming from nowhere, he is thrust into an alien world which existed before him-a world which didn't need him. And which will survive him.

I was a stepchild in two different families. The hardest thing about being a stepchild is you know that in some way everything would be easier if you didn't exist.

(Beth) "I don't care anymore." I turned my face up toward Heaven. "That's not my home anymore. You are.

The moment you’ve uttered the exact dimensionality of your exile, you’re already turning towards home.

I never felt like I belonged in Minnesota when I was growing up there. That's why I was out the door as soon as I turned 18.

Those of us living in the state of in between have certain advantages and disadvantages. The advantage of being exposed to a new culture and in my case the freedom that comes with living in the USA. The disadvantages of course being that you will never experience again being a center or quite home anywhere.

I felt like I'd been misplaced in the cosmos and I belonged in Maine.

Being somewhere but not completely: that was home for Danny. . . . All he needed was a cellphone or I-access, or both at once, or even just a plan to leave wherever he was and go someplace else really really soon.

I had ambitions to set out and find, like an odyssey or going home somewhere, set out to find this home that I'd left a while back and couldn't remember exactly where it was, but I was on my way there. And encountering what I encountered on the way was how I envisioned it all. I didn't really have any ambition at all. I was born very far from where I'm supposed to be, and so, I'm on my way home, you know?

Homesickness is a bit like seasickness. You don't know how awful it is unti you get it, and when you do, it hits you right in the top of the stomach and you want to die.

If I come back, it will be a place, but it won't be a home any longer.

When you're a guest star on a movie or a TV show, I always say it's like being invited to a family reunion, but it's not your family. So you don't belong - they're being nice to you, but you don't fit in completely; you don't know everybody's story. You don't have a history.

If you've ever been homesick, or felt exiled from all the things and people that once defined you, you'll know how important welcoming words and friendly smiles can be.

When I first came USA, I didn't feel this was my home. This was where I was studying, and then my home was now rejecting me.

This is not my life. These are not my cobwebs. This is not the darkness I was designed for.

How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.

I'm one of the millions of immigrant children, children of loneliness, wandering between worlds that are at once too old and too new to live in.

Home pulls. It draws you back to tell you you don't belong.

The hardest thing about moving to California from Connecticut was just missing my family. If I went back, it would be just because I was homesick.

That still feels like the most accurate description - I felt homesick, but I was home.

I used to think I was unstable, because I had this thirst for something. I could never figure out what it was. I couldn’t sleep at night, and I always wanted to be somewhere else. I have a window tattooed, this little box, and it’s because wherever I was, I wanted to be somewhere else. And, I always saw myself, wherever I was in life, staring out the window.

I didn't have a home in the world, so I wanted a home in a person. I felt like I had found that, and then it was taken away from me.

I alternate between thinking of the planet as home - dear and familiar stone hearth and garden - and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners.