Quotes About Solitude

but I would suggest that it is instead our solitude that most disturb us, the fact that we are all but alone despite being in the heart of a city.

He said, "Only you." I was alone and he was alone and we had nothing in common short of being human at night.

If only talking to oneself did not look mad, no day would go by without my being heard growling to myself. - you silly shit!

Retire within yourselves; but first prepare yourselves to receive yourselves there. It would be madness to trust yourselves to yourselves if you do not know how to control yourselves. There are ways of failing in solitude as well as in company.

Onun için kalabal?ktan kaçmak yetmez, bir yerden baÅŸka bir yere gitmekle iÅŸ bitmez. Ä°çimizdeki kalabal?ktan kurtulmam?z, kendimizi kendimizden koparmam?z gerek, böyle anlarda.

But we could not live in this world if we were not able, from time to time, to get away from it.

And for all I know he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly

I like it better here where I can sit just quietly and smell the flowers.

New grass, you don't even know where to sprout and grow. How can I, a drop of dew, vanish away in the air leaving you alone?

Oh she says the inconceivable sorrow of it, those chairs piled up at night when you're sitting in a cafè. The last one left.

He turns a page of his newspaper and folds it conveniently for reading, and reads it without looking at her again, settling further into his seat with the slight sigh of one whose visitor has left and who is at last alone.

However, as soon as Mrs. Hogg stepped into her room she disappeared, she simply disappeared. She had no private life whatsoever. God knows where she went in her privacy.

I wonder if, in the dark night of the sea, the octopus dreams of me.

You have spent your whole life believing such untrue things. Don't you know how alone you are, David? We are most alone when we are with the myths.

Everyone ends up moving alone towards the self

The solitude of writing is also quite frightening. It's quite close to madness, one just disappears for a day and loses touch.

A desert is a place without expectation.

My life is far too quiet these days.

Había descubierto que montar en bici me permitía pensar sin preocuparme de que alguien se percatara de mis muecas y expresiones.

Solitude opens all closed doors, even those nailed shut.

My help is in the mountain Where I take myself to heal … I find a rock with sun on it And a stream where the water runs gentle And the trees which one by one gives me company. So must I stay for a long time Until I have grown from the rock And the stream is running through me And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree. … My help is in the mountain That I take away with me. Collected in: Sisters of the Earth: Women's Prose and Poetry About Nature by Lorraine Anderson

But he wasn't going for the sake of corruption or the kingdom. His tower was broken, he'd drunk Spindle-water, and he'd held my hand. So now he was going to run away as quick as he could, and find himself some new stone walls to hide behind. He'd keep himself locked away for ten years this time, until he withered his own roots, and didn't feel the lack of them anymore.

Me vino muy bien verlos permanecer allí sentados y no acudir en mi ayuda, porque cuando terminé de gritar por segunda vez y el desollador consiguió entrar, comprendí que estaba totalmente sola y que tendría que apañármelas como pudiera, pues no le importaba a nadie más.

Sometimes a bus ride was all it took to feel better.