33 Quotes About Barren

It’s hard to safeguard a genuine life course, when love tips over from endearing care into tedium, through laziness of imagination or loss of interest, and the storyline becomes barren and desolate, insipidly dull, turning into a threadbare act with the same trite modus operandi. “The same procedure as every year, James!” ("Things needing to be changed")

Truth is important, but myths are equally important because they provide us the illusions that illuminate our lives. Unlike reality, which is to be accepted whether we like it or not, we can choose illusions which are beautiful and serve our purpose. Illusions are made beautiful because they are created to please us while truth is barren and purposeless. Truth is ‘what it is’ but myths are ‘what we want it to be,’ ‘what it can be’ or ‘what it should be’.

A night of crying has silenced me. This morning it seems the whole world is against me. I've never before felt so barren, so empty. I've never before thought the daylight to be ... my enemy. My enemy.

I will erase this world of yours with such magnificence of my presence that your vision will remain no more, your eyes fading to darkness and your soul barren before me, in my grasp that I shall corrupt to a slave of mine.

According to the Scriptures, there is a promise of children for the barren womb in the sacred time.

This book is written in a barren period of loss with an attempt to move forward towards substance.

The grass always seems greener on the other side of the fence. Many politicians promise green, green grass by blending niceties with delusion and by using alluring confidence tricks. They voice attractive tales and tell things, people like to hear. But the post-factual grassland often appears to be parched and barren. ("The grass was greener over there")

It was cold and barren. It was no longer the view that I remembered. The sunshine of her presence was far from me. The charm of her voice no longer murmured in my ear.

I should have asked why any room in the house was better than home to me when she entered it, and barren as a desert when she went out again—why I always noticed and remembered the little changes in her dress that I had noticed and remembered in no other woman’s before—why I saw her, heard her, and touched her (when we shook hands at night and morning) as I had never seen, heard, and touched any other woman in my life?