Quotes About Solitude

Nothing is more beautiful than the loveliness of the woods before sunrise.

Truly it may be said that the outside of a mountain is good for the inside of a man.

Night lies beside me Chaste and cold as a sharp sword. It and I alone.

Sometimes on lonely nights the man in the moon is my best friend.

Night — the quiet of solitude — the silence of loneliness

For sleep, one needs endless depths of blackness to sink into; daylight is too shallow, it will not cover one.

Solitary converse with nature; for thence are ejaculated sweet and dreadful words never uttered in libraries. Ah! the spring days, the summer dawns, the October woods!

To live alone, one must be a beast or a god — says Aristotle — leaving out the third case: that one must be both — a philosopher.

I'd play every day if I could. It's cheaper than a shrink and there are no telephones on my golf cart.

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why.

Book lovers never go to bed alone.

September... dearest month of all to pensive minds!

Silence is a fence around wisdom.

The Arctic expresses the sum total of all wisdom. Silence. Nothing but silence...

As the truest society approaches always nearer to solitude, so the most excellent speech finally falls into Silence.

If you can't get quiet enough to hear yourself, your life is too loud.

Silence is the uninterrupted sound of forever.

In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness.

I like to party, and by party I mean a slumber party for one with plenty of books to read.

A smile vanquishes loneliness, if only for a fleeting moment.

Smoke your pipe and be silent; there's only wind and smoke in the world.

There is a simple life, a life in solitude, which I had grown unused to. Eating bread at a wooden table, gathering up the crumbs and tossing them to the sparrows. Slowly peeling an apple with a pocketknife and realizing that this gesture exactly re-creates your father's gesture, which re-creates the gesture of your grandfather's. The place is not the same, nor the time, nor the hand. But the gesture remembers.

I am so very absent. The world is overcrowded with my absence. Life is where I am not. No matter where I am…

Grabschrift auf einen Gehenkten Hier ruht er, wenn der Wind nicht weht!