Quotes About Solitude

Reckon it's best if you don't have anyone you care about; then it can't hurt you. Don't have to be afraid of losing someone if you no one to lose.

The key to resisting Voice," Barrons instructed, "is finding that place inside you no one else can touch. "You mean the sidhe -seer place?" I said, hopping like a one-legged chicken. "No, a different place. All people have it. Not just sidhe -seers. We're born alone and we die alone. That place." "I don't get it." "I know. That's why you're hopping.

Regardless of how many people I surrounded myself with, no matter how many friends and family I loved and was loved by in return, I was alone at the moment of being born and at the moment of dying. Nobody came with you and nobody went with you. It was a journey of one.

Her absence in my life was so painful that it was a presence.

Who would ever understand me?

She says, all serious like, Lor, you're a really sweet guy (who the bloody fuck is she talking about? I'm looking around the bed but it's only me and her)...

Tuatha De do not walk the human realm alone. Actually, they don't walk alone much anywhere. Only the occasional rogue Fae will do so." "Like yourself?" "Yes Most of my kind have no fondness for solitude. Those who walk alone are not to be trusted." "Really," she said dryly. "Except for me," he amended, with a faint, insouciant grin.

The most critical, defining battles we wage in life, we wage alone. Against ourselves.

I have lived behind walls that have made me alone

Solitude and inaction are unraveling me right down to the core.

I will never again permit myself to forget that isolation is the first step to defeat.

I'd take some peace and quiet. A beautiful girl." He laughed. "A good book.

There was nothing out there but him. He'd been looking for a long time.

And she doesn't want company. I can't fault her for that. We all must make our way alone before we're much good at making our way together.

Grief still kicked me awake in the morning, kept me company all day, and crawled into bed with me at night.

It's too quiet, Barrons growls. I concur. The hush that accompanies a once-in-a-century snowstorm, when the world is so densely carpeted with feet and feet of drifts that it mutes all acoustics and makes you feel like you might be the only person alive, muzzles the land.

Silence is the ultimate isolator.

It's strange to own anything, Beverly thinks, even your flesh, that nobody outside yourself ever touches or sees.

She used to suffer these intense bouts of homesickness in her own bedroom.

In the beginning, fifty hours sounded like a bleak ocean of time, more hours than Sawtooth wanted to spend with himself, let alone with another person. Now he needs the girl to sit and measure time with him, the way the neighbor woman needs her prescription mirror so that she doesn't forget her own face.

As dizzy as the stars, as near and alone.

The boy could scarcely believe the size of the boulders, clustered under the enormous sun like dead red rockets awaiting repair, or the span of the sky, a cheerfully vacant blue dome, the desert's hallucinatory choreography achieved through stillness, brightness, darkness, distance -- and all of this before noon.

But the desert offers something that no forest, brook or valley ever can: distance. A cloudless rooming house for couples. Skies that will host any visitors' dreams with the bald hospitality of pure space.

Who doesn't dream of it? The silence that blots up thought. The silence that frees one from the burden of being oneself.