Quotes About Solitude

wrote it in the summer of 1959 in my furnished room at the Hotel Rio, on West Forty-Seventh Street between Sixth and Seventh avenues.

For my own part, I'd never live with anyone, male of female. I have trouble enough living with myself.

books everywhere piled up in heaps, the rare companions of a solitude not self-imposed but sought.

He loved the desert because there the wind blew out one's footsteps like candle flames.

Let us go to bed together and ignore the loutish reality of the world.

These notes, however they may be read, are intended only as a painstaking affectionate commentary on a world into which I have been born to share my most solitary moments — those of coitus — with Justine. I can get no nearer to the truth.

There is no wilderness. There is only our inability to fill the emptiness in which we live.

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.

I miss the comfort in being sad.

Laugh, and the world laughs with you: Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.

Even sad stories are company. And perhaps that's why you might read such a chronicle, to look into a companionable darkness that isn't yours.

Pretty sad. Pretty lonely. But that's how I prefer it? I quess? I guess. It's a good guess. It's the best quess ever.

"Don't you want to join us?" I was recently asked by an acquaintance when he ran across me alone after midnight in a coffeehouse that was already almost deserted. "No, I don't," I said.

'Tis they who are in their own chambers haunted By thoughts that like unbidden guests intrude, And sit down, uninvited and unwanted, And make a nightmare of the solitude.

You know... when you are sad you love the sunsets.

I'm always alone. Sad face emoticon.

But hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity.

Being on your own would be sad, sick and weird. I don't trust myself. I need that balance.

This is the sad bed of chosen chastity because you are miles and mountains away.

If misery loves company, misery has company enough.

If people can't stand being alone, they have no choice but to die

She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.

I have no relationships and I'm, like, sad sometimes.

One day, I watched the sun setting forty-four times......You know...when one is so terribly sad, one loves sunsets.