Quotes About Solitude

You are looking outward, and that above all you should not do now. Nobody can counsel and help you, nobody. There is only one single way. Go into yourself.

And if you were in some prison the walls of which let none of the sounds of the world come to your senses—would you not then still have your childhood, that precious, kingly possession, that treasure-house of memories? Turn your attention thither. Try to raise the submerged sensations of that ample past; your personality will grow more firm, your solitude will widen and will become a dusky dwelling past which the noise of others goes by far away.

find enough patience in yourself to endure, and enough simplicity to believe; that you gain more and more confidence in what is difficult, and in particular your solitude. And for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is right, every time.

If there is nothing in common between you and other people, try being close to things, they will not desert you; there are the nights still and the winds that go through the trees and across many lands; among things and with the animals everything is still happening, in which you may participate; and children are still the way you were as a child, sad like that and happy.

You should not let yourself be confused in your solitude by the fact that there is some thing in you that wants to move out of it…We know little, but that we must trust in what is difficult is a certainty that will never abandon us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be one more reason for us to do it.

I can see myself lying in my little high-sided bed, not sleeping and somehow vaguely intimating that that was how life would be: full of special things that are only intended for one person and cannot be told of.

Learning-time is always a long, secluded time..

There is only one solitude, and it is vast and not easy to bear and almost everyone has moments when they would happily exchange it for some form of company, be it ever so banal or trivial, for the illusion of some slight correspondence with whoever one happens to come across, however unworthy… But perhaps those are precisely the hours when solitude grows, for its growth is painful like the growth of boys and sad like the beginning of spring.

You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself.

And so, dear sir, love your solitude, accept the pain it causes you, and make a melody with it.

You must not let yourself be diverted out of your solitude by the fact that something in you wants to escape from it.

Going into oneself and not meeting anyone for hours – that is what one must arrive at.

Works of art can be described as having an essence of eternal solitude and an understanding is attainable least of all by critique. Only love can grasp and hold them and can judge them fairly.

Understand, I'll slip quietly away from the noisy crowd when I see the pale stars rising, blooming, over the oaks.

it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; the fact that a thing is difficult must be one more reason for our doing it.

This alone is needed: solitude, vast inner solitude. To go into yourself and meet no one for hours,—you must be able to achieve this. Be alone, as you were alone as a child, while the adults went about their business, caught up in matters that seemed important and grand because the grown-ups looked so busy and because you comprehended nothing of what they did.

Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism.

And even if you were in some prison the walls of which let none of the sounds of the world come to your senses—would you not then still have your childhood, that precious, kingly possession, that treasure-house of memories? Turn your attention thither. Try to raise the submerged sensations of that ample past; your personality will grow more firm, your solitude will widen and will become a dusky dwelling past which the noise of others goes by far away.

The leaves are falling, falling as from far, As if far gardens in the skies were dying; They fall, and never seem to be denying. And in the night the earth, a heavy ball, Into a starless solitude must fall. We all are falling. My own hand no less Than all things else; behold, it is in all. Yet there is One who, utter gentleness, Holds all this falling in His hands to bless.

for at bottom, and just in the deepest and most important things, we are unutterably alone, and for one person to be able to advise or even help another, a lot must happen, a lot must go well, a whole constellation of things must come right in order once to succeed.

Çünkü mutludur, kendilerinden uzaklaÅŸmam?? olanlar sessizce, çat?s?z, yaÄŸmurun alt?nda duranlar

We are unutterably alone, essentially, especially in the things most intimate and most important to us.

And this more human form of love (which will be performed in infinitely gentle and considerate fashion, true and clear in its creating of bonds and dissolving of them) will resemble the one we are struggling and toiling to prepare the way for, the love that consists in two solitudes protecting, defining and welcoming one another.

With the help of such impressions you regain your composure, win your way back out of the demands of the talking and chattering multtude (how voluble it is!), and you slowly learn to recognize the very few things in which something everlasting can be felt, something you can love, something solitary in which you can take part in silence.