Quotes About Solitude

We are men without ambition, and all we want is to be left alone, in peace so that we can try and be happy. So few people will understand this simplicity.

You feel even more naked and alone, he said silently, when you reveal yourself, a gratuitous act, for the strength and comfort you look for, any of those last illusions of consolations, can finally be only within you.

There is something about a bathroom that feels like a fortress. A closed bathroom door may only be about two inches of plywood, but it feels like an iron bar.

My grandfather lived alone in this room with no one to love for twenty-six years. That kind of loneliness takes real strength.

If you write a novel alone you sit and you weave a little narrative. And it's O.K., but it's of no account.

The writer is all alone.

All religions will pass, but this will remain: simply sitting in a chair and looking in the distance.

Like many isolated people, they were wrapped up in themselves and not too interested in the world outside.

Rings out to meet me on my way.

Sleep softly… eagle forgotten… under the stone.

Khalil Gibran says a soul mate is the guardian of the other person's solitude.

I'd like to turn the silence right up, but how do you do that?

He was lying with his eyes closed--it was easier to talk that way and he spoke with that searing, convulsive anger that surfaces when there's no one to direct it against.

It's a fact that even death looks good in company.

Silence is the indispensable climate for all revelation; noise renders it absolutely impossible.

I am always locked in my design studio.

True, I played, fought and studied with other children, but always I stood apart within. … A cosmic loneliness was my shadow.

I'm addicted to silence and privacy; I wallow in it.

Sometimes there's comfort in wrapping oneself in aloneness, witnessing your own pain.

How long have I been walking? I don't remember any more, I can't count days or months. Is that the moon, the sun? I can't tell. The night star will sometimes light up the infinite fields of snow with an intensity like that of the sun, while the daytime star rises from the fog-shrouded horizon like a pale moon. The ice reflects the light like water does.

As against having beautiful workshops, studios, etc., one writes best in a cellar on a rainy day.

Prayer is your answer. When I feel like life has taken me on a journey that I can't handle on my own, which is most of the time, I go to a room by myself

You never read about the real pain. It lives where no word can travel.

Pure at heart: to be like a flower that blooms as gloriously, brilliantly in a secluded wild wood, not seen and praised.