Everything we have on this: living voices from interviews, books and films — side by side.
I just want to be loved. That's all I've ever wanted.
A psychotherapist with half a century of clinical practice examines how the fear of death quietly steers ordinary life, and maps out ways of living alongside that fear rather than suppressing it.
A film about how freedom won through the loss of everything that held you turns out to be its own kind of pain, not relief.
Fame is loneliness in a crowd. I'm surrounded by people but completely alone.
A logician known for technical philosophy writes an unexpectedly practical, almost commonsensical book arguing that unhappy people are usually too preoccupied with themselves, and that turning attention outward …
A quiet, exact portrait of how grown children drift from their parents even while still loving them.
Solitude is a way to hear yourself. It is not a disease, it is a cure.
a realist coming-of-age novel, almost without Murakami's trademark strangeness, about youth unfolding alongside the deaths of people close to you and not knowing what to do with that.
A story about a family assembled not by blood but by a mutual choice to look after one another — and the price paid for that care outside the law.
Music is the language that all human beings understand. Whether I play in China or America, people recognize the melody. It is a universal language.
a saga of the Buendía family in which magical realism isn't decoration but a way of showing how a country's and a family's history loop, repeating the same mistakes under new names.
A story of how a brilliant idea and its creator's social wounds turn into an empire — and a trail of broken relationships along the way.
Magic is just science that we don't understand yet.
After her father's sudden death, the author sets out to train a wild goshawk — a book about how grief can, and cannot, be tamed through a relationship with a wild animal.
One person's coming of age told through three different actors in three different bodies — a film about how an outer mask of toughness and an inner vulnerability can share one life without ever quite reconciling.
Lost in Translation is about loneliness that you can feel even in a crowd. It is the most human of all feelings.
A quiet road movie about a woman who, after losing her home and her husband, chooses life on the road in a van — not as an escape but as a way to grieve and live at once.
The vampires in my film are us. They live forever but are lonely. This is a metaphor for modern life.
A week in the life of a talented but luckless folk musician — a film about talent that isn't enough when timing and circumstance work against you.
Distance between people is sometimes physical, sometimes emotional.
An aging Roman writer, famous for decades on the strength of a single novel, drifts through the city's nocturnal high society searching for a beauty that once felt obvious and now keeps slipping away.
Much of writing is an attempt to convey the inexpressible. You know something, but you can't find the words for it. It's torture and pleasure at the same time.
A chronicle of Amy Winehouse's short life, built from home video and amateur footage shot long before fame — a film about how a rare talent and a fragile psyche become prey for an industry and a crowd.
I live between two worlds—Japanese and British. This is not a split but an opportunity to see each world from a distance, with irony and compassion.
Do you know what it means to be alone? Not lonely, but alone - completely detached, not trying to solve any problem, not trying to find any answer.
Exile teaches you the main thing: in the end, a person is alone with language and time — and that is enough.
There were very difficult moments. I didn't tell anyone, but I cried at night. But I never gave up.
We seek in one person what we once sought from an entire community. And then we are surprised it is impossible.
We seek connection, but we create isolation. Technology promises us intimacy, but it delivers loneliness.
The Holdovers is about how we cope with loneliness.
I was terrified to speak about my loneliness, but when I did, I discovered true compassion
Comedy is there to show us we're still part animal — so we don't take ourselves too seriously and destroy the species.