Quotes About Solitude

a meadow which David had known before the coming of the motorway, where he had searched for mushrooms in previous autumns, in lost quiet golden hazes.

She thought, I am becoming a recluse. Yes, that's it, that is the way.

Getting through time was rather the problem. The cry of 'Help me!' — but there was no one there.

Sometimes he would have liked to pray, but what is prayer if there is nobody there?

Of course Paula had revealed her trouble to no one. She preserved it in her private heart like the awful bloody arcana of a mystical religion.

I'm as lonely as a lunatic.

He felt removed from reality.

But all this, all this shift and change, thought Bellamy, is part of the vast lie which surrounds me and wherein I move from one fantasy to another. I wanted to escape to solitude and darkness in a holy place, but the dark is just the old dark of meaninglessness and falsehood, which separates me from my friends and from the real world where people love and help each other.

Bellamy was sorry to hurt Clement's feelings, but he so intensely wanted to be alone where he could confront the awful cacophony of his own feelings.

You're miserable by yourself, you just mope. Don't you, don't you?' 'I enjoy misery and moping.

Every night is an imitation of death. Without that I would have killed myself long ago.' She

She had dreamed of a separated man, a sad austere secluded man, a man with a great sorrow, an ascetic. She was a moth that wanted to be burnt by a cold cold flame.

She lived in private with her own horror.

I am sunk in the wreck of myself . . . I live in myself like a mouse inside a ruin.

No one, thank God, has attempted to befriend me.

The absence of the loved person is so absolute.

enjoying literature as those alone enjoy it who have little else to enjoy.

I run, I run, I am gathered to your heart. But no, she thought, it's not like that. I am alone. I cannot reach anybody.

I told you I was going to retire from the world. That's still on. You remember that.

Listen to the wind. It can blow dreadfully here. In the winter it blows so that it would drive you mad. It blows day after day, and one becomes so restless. What do you think of my page? Your - Mr. Nolan? He seems very devoted. I think he would let me kill him slowly.

There is something compelling about the sound of a fountain in a deserted place. It murmurs about what things do when no one watches them. It is the hearing of an unheard sound.

Now I'll be left alone, and that's all you want, all you crave out of life: to be left alone while you get on with the business of interfering with others. In

Sitting in the brightly lit library, surrounded by books, in total silence, that was ma personal zenith.

Our secret thoughts - do they ever show up? The small flame of our soul can be burning hot, but no one comes to its warmth. Passersby see only a small whiff going through the chimney. Don't we need to take care of that flame, cherish it and patiently wait until someone will come and sit at it, do we?