Quotes About Solitude

Instead I dreamt of walking out of the world, of spending all my time inside with no one to talk to, and no one to talk to me. All I wanted was a routine, a series of sterile acts that I could perform without dedication or effort, a life where everything was constantly the same, where every day passed exactly like the one before.

That night, I slept hugging my secret.

Each death is as singular as the individual who is dying, and in the end we will get no definitive answers.

Ease and enjoyment must not be the end of Christian retirement, but penance, labor, and assiduous contemplation; without great fervor and constancy in which, close solitude is the road to perdition.

Knowledge and science is the fruit of paradise; in times of threat it is one's ally, in exile it keeps one company, and in solitude it is one's intimate friend and companion.

More and more, when faced with the world of men, the only reaction is one of individualism. Man alone is an end unto himself. Everything one tries to do for the common good ends in failure.

As a remedy to life in society I would suggest the big city. Nowadays, it is the only desert within our means.

In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion.

Ah, mon cher, for anyone who is alone, without God and without a master, the weight of days is dreadful.

The only real progress lies in learning to be wrong all alone.

I used to go away for weeks in a state of confusion.

It is strange to be known so universally and yet to be so lonely.

I lived in solitude in the country and noticed how the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind

For this is the considerate way of dogs; and of cats as well. When dire sickness smites them, they do not hang about, craving sympathy and calling for endless attention. All they want is to get out of the way,—well out of the way, into the woods and swamps and mountains; where they may wrestle with their life-or-death problem in their own primitive manner; and where, if need be, they may die alone and peacefully, without troubling anyone else.

hamlet of Hampton and there get as nearly drunk as his funds would permit. It was his only surcease. And as a rule, it was a poor one. For seldom did he have enough ready money to buy wholesale forgetfulness. More often he was able to purchase only enough hard cider or fuseloil whisky to make him dull and vaguely miserable.

A poet would have vowed that the still and white-shrouded wilderness was a shrine sacred to solitude and severe peace. Lad could have told him better. Nature (beneath the surface) is never solitary and never at peace.

Do not let Sunday be taken from you. If your soul has no sunday, it becomes an orphan.

We are all so much together, but we are all dying of loneliness.

I'd like to have enough time and quiet To think about absolutely nothing, To not ever feel myself living, To only know myself in others' eyes, reflected.

Ser poeta não é uma ambição minha. É a minha maneira de estar sozinho.

She goes on with her beautiful hair and mouth like before, I go on like before, alone in the field. It's like my head had been lowered, And if I think this, and raise my head And the golden sun dries the need to cry I can't stop having. How vast the field and interior love... ! I look, and I forget, like dryness where there was water and trees losing their leaves.

I was never a keeper of sheep

Ser poeta no es una ambición mía. Es mi manera de estar solo

Tú estás solo, pero no por eso mereces morir.