Quotes About Solitude

I carefully kept myself in a cloud of unknowing.

While in prison, I received a dictionary. It was sent to me with a note. This is the book I would take to a deserted island.

I did not choose solitude. Who would? It came on me like a kind of vocation, demanding an effort that married women can't picture. Sometimes, even now, I look on the married girls the way a wild dog might look through the window at tame ones, envying the regularity of their lives but also despising the low pleasure they get from the master's touch.

I FEEL ALL THE SAME THINGS WHEN I DO THINGS ALONE AS WHEN OLE GOLLY WAS HERE. THE BATH FEELS HOT, THE BED FEELS SOFT, BUT I FEEL THERE'S A FUNNY LITTLE HOLE IN ME THAT WASN'T THERE BEFORE, LIKE A SPLINTER IN YOUR FINGER, BUT THIS IS SOMEWHERE ABOVE MY STOMACH.

even when every man deserts us, God will be our consolation.

Here we are, alone again. It's all so slow, so heavy, so sad. . . I'll be old soon. Then at last it will be over. So many people have come into my room. They've talked. They haven't said much. They've gone away. They've grown old, wretched, sluggish, each in some corner of the world.

In fatigue and solitude men emanate the divine.

Her kentte böyle yerler vard?r iÅŸte, o kadar sersemce çirkindirler ki, orada hemen her zaman yaln?zs?n?zd?r

At a certain age, especially after certain hardships, you only want one thing: to be left alone! ...or better still, you'd like people to think you're dead! in a recent poll on 'what the young people think', they all thought I was dead... died in the Greenland! Not bad!

Nigdy niczego nie potrzebuj?... Odmawiam wszystkiego... Nie chc? ani poca?unku... ani r?cznika! Chc? tylko pogr??a? si? we wspomnieniach!... I ?eby zostawiono mnie w spokoju!... Wszystkie wspomnienia!... Okoliczno?ci! To wszystko, czego sobie ?ycz?!...

He is a guy without collective importance. He is just an individual.

Etre seul, c'est s'entrainer a la mort.

But they'd been blocked by the trauma, a force field created by the violence of that day, impermeable to words. Each of them occupied her own dark solitude; feelings could break through, but language couldn't.

was sleeping, but my heart kept vigil.

gone out somewhere—had he

To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you, and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations-such is a pleasure beyond compare.

In her newfound solitude, she felt alternately listless and liberated.

There might be some hours of loneliness. But there was something wonderful even in loneliness. At least you belonged to yourself when you were lonely.

It was three o'clock in the morning – the wisest and most accursed hour of the clock. But sometimes it sets us free.

If you couldn't be loved, the next best thing was to be left alone.

He was so lonely that he laughed at himself.

I went on the hill and walked about until twilight had deepened into an autumn night with a benediction of starry quietude over it. I was alone but not lonely. I was a queen and has a fancy.

I wanted to be alone in an altogether unusual way, a new way. Quite the contrary of what you think: that is to say, without myself and, to be precise, with a stranger at hand.

Have you ever thought to go away and never come back? Run away and lose your tracks, to go to a place far away and start living again, living a new life, only yours, really live? Did you ever think?